


A Song of Dusk and Dawn

by metalloverben



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Adaptation, Gen, Novelization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 98,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalloverben/pseuds/metalloverben
Summary: AU. A sheltered prince is thrown into a world on the cusp of war, torn between the family that birthed him and the family that raised him. What repercussions will his choices have on the world? Will he choose the path of his birthright? Or will he choose the path of conquest? Can he rise to lead the world to peace? An expanded prologue for the fourteenth game in the series, Fates.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story, Song of Dusk and Dawn, is an expanded prologue adaptation of Nintendo’s fourteenth game in the Fire Emblem series, Fates. I initially set out to novelize the whole game, but… well, it didn’t happen. Enjoy the prologue!  
> Don’t forget you can follow me on Twitter! - metalloverCAB

_You are the ocean’s grey waves, destined to seek life beyond the shore, just out of reach…_

A young man stood in a field, the afternoon sunlight dying his surroundings a crisp orange as he turned. A haunting song echoed around him, coming from where, he couldn’t tell.

_Yet the waters ever change, flowing like time, the path is yours to climb…_

All around him the ghosts of soldiers and warriors fought and struggled, their ephemeral forms leaving trails in the air behind their movements, everything happening in slow motion as the melody overlaid everything. He turned, a horrified set to his regal features beneath a shock of messy white hair as he surveyed the lingering carnage around him. Four figures approached, clearer than the others in the field. Two women with red hair, and two tall men, each wearing looks of concern as they neared. He turned as four more, far more familiar figures approached from the opposite side. His brothers and sisters, each atop their horses, or in his elder sister’s case her wyvern, all glaring hatefully at the four figures behind the young man. But something was off about his siblings. He could not seem to bring them into focus, no matter how hard he tried the remained blurs in his vision.

_In the white light a hand reaches through, a double edged blade cuts your heart into two…_

And… he still felt a strange connection to the people behind him.

He felt the same connection with them as the figures of his siblings before him…

“Your family has come to take you home! Quickly, come join us!”

“Nohrian filth! He is my brother, and a Prince of Hoshido!”

“Quite the contrary! He is my brother, a Prince of Nohr!”

_Waking dreams fade away, now wake, wake and face a brand new day…_

The young man stumbled, gripping his head with both hands as he tried to quiet the screaming in his head. He looked up, tears of pain beginning to well in his eyes. He looked over his shoulder at the shadowy figures at his back, flickering as if they were candles about to be extinguished in the wind. One of the red-haired figures stepped forward.

“First you kidnap him, now you lie to him!? He is my brother, not yours!”

“You are mistaken,” came the unmistakable voice of his oldest sister. “He is my sweet little brother, and you may not have him.”

_You are the ocean’s grey waves…_

He shook his head, wincing at the volume of the voices and song overwhelming him.

“Don’t be fooled by their words! You belong with your true family!”

All of the shadowy figures reached their hands out to him now, screaming.

“Brother! Corrin!”

“Corrin!”

_“Corrin!”_

*

There was an insufferable blast of cold against his cheeks, forcing the young man back into the waking world from his nightmare. With a yelp he leapt up, quickly becoming tangled in his sheets and tripping, landing face-first on the floor beside his bed.

“Lord Corrin, it is time to wake up,” a familiar, pleasant voice said from the opposite side of his bed.

The voice held a tinge of laughter, similar to the giggles of a second voice beside her.

“Up and at em, Lord Corrin!” the second voice laughed.

Corrin let out a low groan, pulling himself up with the edge of the bed and untangling himself from his sheets as he cast a weak glare at the two maids, both beaming bright smiles at him. He rubbed his cheeks, attempting to warm some feeling back into them. The maids were twin sisters, similar in appearance except for the colour of their hair. Flora, the older of the two, had hair the colour of a glacier, a light, pale blue, while the younger sister Felicia had light tan hair, both pulling their hair back into uniform ponytails. Both wore their black maid’s dresses with pride, having been chosen personally from among hundreds to be Corrin’s maids.

And both still had crystals of ice floating around them from their rather abrupt awakening.

Corrin groaned, pulling himself up and running a hand down his face as he struggled to throw off the last vestiges of his nightmare.

“Felicia, Flora,” he yawned. “That was mean. And it’s still dark outside. What gives?”

“Listen well, Prince,” a third voice, like cold steel, said before either maid could answer. “It may be dark, but it is indeed morning. And you have practice today.”

Corrin glanced at the owner of the voice; an older man, his hard face lined and scarred from a life of fighting, stood just behind the maids in full black plate armor. Beside him was another man, wearing a youthful smile in a thin face, adorned in a fine suit a step up from the ones the rest of the castle’s staff wore.

“I have taken the liberty of preparing your armor, milord,” the younger man said with a slight bow, still grinning. “And, er, pounding out the dents.”

“Ugh. Fine,” Corrin groaned. “Thank you, Gunter. Jakob. Truth be told, I’m still not entirely awake yet.”

The young man rose to his feet, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.

“Best wake up quickly, Prince,” the knight, Gunter, chuckled. “Your brother is a fearsome opponent.”

“We can help with that if you wish,” Flora offered calmly.

“Yeah!” Felicia added excitedly.

The twins raised their hands again, ice crystals already beginning to dance in the air around them a second time.

“N-no, that won’t be necessary!” Corrin said, panicked. “I’m awake! I’m awake! See!? Fully awake! Ah-ha-hah… hah…”

“That’s how we deal with slugabeds in the Ice Tribe!” Felicia declared, grinning as she cocked her head to one side.

Flora simply nodded, allowing herself a small grin of her own. The two may have been twins, but they were as different in personality as chalk and cheese. Flora was prim and proper, every bit the perfect maid, while Felicia was more outgoing and cheerful, and honestly terrible at her duties as a maid. It was almost comical how bad at cooking and cleaning she was, but it was inspiring for Corrin how she never gave up, no matter how many times she burned dinner. Or the laundry. Or… herself…

“Urgh, trust me I know,” Corrin deadpanned.

Felicia giggled again, and Corrin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he recalled the dream he had just been having.

“It is time for you to be going, milord,” Jakob said, his perpetual grin still in place. “It would not behoove you to keep Prince Xander waiting.”

“I suppose I’d best get dressed, then,” he said, stifling a yawn.

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Jakob offered with a bow. “Gunter, ladies. Let us prepare the healing salve.”

The four people left Corrin alone in his room, chatting as they exited.

“Think we’ll need as much as last time?” Felicia asked cheerily.

“I would prepare more, just in case,” Flora suggested. “Prince Xander has been holding back less, lately.”

“Yeah,” the younger maid sighed. “At least I’m getting good with a healing staff.”

“I can still hear you, and you’re not helping!” Corrin shouted into the hallway.

Gunter stopped at the door, the old Knight grinning over his armored shoulder as he shut the door behind them. When Gunter was in a good mood, then Corrin knew he was in for a beating.

With a sigh the young Prince began to pull his nightclothes off, sluggishly as if trying to prolong the inevitable. He kept coming back to his dream, though… Who were those people that looked like Hoshidans, calling him their brother? As far as he knew his only siblings were here in Nohr.

Not that he would know, being shut up in this castle his whole life with nothing but scrambled, almost non-existent memories of his childhood.

With a melancholy look Corrin ran his fingers over the thin plates of his armor, standing in the center of his room in his smallclothes. Jakob had indeed mended the suit since his last training match with his eldest brother, the bare metal plates polished to a sparkling sheen again and the dent in the central black plates pounded back out to make the suit pristine once more.

Try as he might, he couldn’t get the melody of that song from his dream out of his head. Humming it to himself, Corrin pulled the tight black clothes he wore beneath his armor on, before starting to pull sections of the armor itself into place. As he fastened the tattered blue cape he wore more out of habit now than anything else to his shoulder plates he let out another great yawn before pulling his boots on.

“What was that dream all about, anyway?” he muttered.

With a shrug, he started humming the melody of that song again as he stepped out of his room. There was no point dwelling on it now. Not when he had to face another beating from his brother, anyway.

*

Corrin yelped, jumping back as a black bladed sword descended directly in front of his face. He fell backwards, landing on his rear, before rolling to the side as the blade descended again.

“Well, at least he’s getting good at dodging,” another young man sighed off to one side of the training ground. “You won’t beat the strongest knight in Nohr by sleeping all day, brother.”

“Corrin! Stop running and face me already!” an older man growled, holding the black sword up again. “You are a Prince of Nohr! I expect more from you!”

Corrin nodded, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of one gloved hand. He was atop one of the towers in the space that Gunter had turned into a training ground for him. It was cold, perpetually blasted by icy winds from the wasteland around the tower and fraught with precarious footing that the Knight had assured him was ‘just perfect to train in’.

The man holding the sword in front of him was his older brother, close to ten years his senior. Xander, Crown Prince of Nohr and general of some repute among its army, frowned. He had strong, patrician features and short, wavy blonde hair kept from his face with a black circlet that matched his thick black plate armor. The other man alternating between flipping through the thick tome in his hands and watching the match was Corrin’s younger brother, Leo. He had similar features to Xander, but his hair was slightly longer and straighter. His armor, too, was lighter than his older brother’s, perfect for a lighter Mage Knight.

Xander smiled a little as he tensed.

“Very well. Here I come!”

Corrin just barely managed to bring his sword up in time to block the blow from his brother, catching the much larger blade on his own. His feet slid backwards a little from the impact of the strike, but Corrin grunted and held on. Xander blinked in surprise as Corrin roared and threw the bigger man’s sword to one side, spinning and earning his first hit of the day on the flank of the Knight-Prince’s armor. He panted as he backed away, trying to catch his breath as he held his sword up in a defensive stance while Xander turned. To his surprise, though, his older brother merely smiled and laughed, shaking his head as his fingers traced the new gouge in his armor.

“Good!” Xander said. “Very good! That was a good blow, Corrin.”

“T-thanks,” he panted, lowering his sword and grinning a little with relief.

That hadn’t just been his first hit against Xander all day; it had been his first hit against his brother all month.

“Now pick up your sword and do it again,” Xander instructed.

Corrin winced, still panting heavily.

“But Xander, I need a-”

“We train like this to defend ourselves and our homeland from our enemies,” Xander said suddenly. “Father has been tracking your progress of late, too. If you cannot land at least one more hit on me today he may never permit you to leave the Northern Fortress. Ever.”

Corrin let out a little groan, hopping up and down on his toes a little and trying to pump himself up.

“Did he really say that? Never mind, of course he did. One more hit, right?”

The younger prince took a calming breath, steeling himself. If it meant finally getting out of the fortress and getting to see more of the world than just the view from the ramparts, then Corrin would land a thousand more hits on his brother, no matter the cost to himself.

Xander nodded, a confident grin rising to his serious features as he echoed Corrin’s thoughts.

“Motivated now, are we? Then use that fire to best me. If you would see the world outside your window then come! Whenever you are ready, little Prince!”

Corrin hopped up and down a few more times before letting out a shout halfway between a groan and a war-cry and charging at Xander. They traded blows, Xander not giving an inch of ground as Corrin struck as viciously as he could, each strike bouncing off his brother’s sword.

“Come, Corrin,” Xander sighed, their blades locking. “Prove to me I haven’t been wasting my time training you!”

“You asked for it!” Corrin grunted, pushing off his brother’s weapon and spinning again.

After all their time sparring Corrin had learned that he may not have been as strong as his brother, but he was faster. His armor was lighter, and his sword smaller. Speed was his advantage here, and he intended to use it. Xander brought his sword down to defend his flank from Corrin’s blow this time, but the younger Prince moved back around to his front, lashing out with his fist the way Gunter had taught him. Xander turned, barking out a laugh as he caught the blow on his armored shoulder and stumbling back a step. Corrin set his features, grinning as he pressed his advantage, raining blows high and low on his brother and forcing him back another few steps.

“Good!” Xander said. “You’ve finally managed to drive me back! Now what!?”

Corrin snarled again, throwing himself into the air to put all of his weight behind his next attack. There was a familiar glint in Xander’s eye as he brought his sword up, just a fraction of a second too slow, and Corrin’s own blade bit into his pauldron.

The younger prince leapt back, panting even harder than before as Leo glanced up again in interest. Xander nodded, and both he and Corrin finally lowered their swords.

“Well done, Corrin,” Xander said happily as he slid his sword into its sheathe. “You’re becoming stronger every day.”

Corrin nodded, collapsing backwards onto his rear again.

“Thanks, Xander,” he panted. “I couldn’t have… done it without your… uh… tough love…”

Xander laughed, stepping forward and offering Corrin his hand.

“I think it has more to do with your own natural talent, little Prince,” he chuckled. “Someday you may very well surpass even me.”

Corrin blinked, his face going blank as he had a sudden flashback of his previous night’s dream before he shook the images away and grasped his brother’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled back up to his feet. Leo approached, sliding his thick tome back into the pouch at his hip as he, too, grinned a little at Corrin’s efforts.

“Now you’re just teasing me,” Corrin chuckled, shaking his head bashfully.

“Come now, little brother, you know me,” Xander said seriously. “I do not jest about serious matters. I meant what I said.”

“Typical,” Leo scoffed, stopping a few steps away. “You do know that strength is more than just mere swordplay, right? I hope you haven’t been forgetting what I taught you about magic, Corrin.”

“N-no, of course not,” Corrin assured him. “I don’t think Xander meant-”

Xander laughed again, clapping a hand on both of his brothers’ shoulders.

“Calm yourself, little brother,” he said to Leo. “You really are competitive to a fault. You know I have always said you are the most powerful mage in the kingdom.”

“And a respectable swordsman,” Leo added, his grin returning.

“Do not get full of yourself now,” Xander chuckled, giving Leo a little shove.

The three brothers laughed for a time, growing silent after a few moments. Leo was the first to speak again, looking at Corrin a little more kindly than he had before.

“Just remember that the pointy metal sticks are not the only path to power,” he warned.

“Of course, brother,” Corrin nodded solemnly. “In return for your advice, I’d like to offer you some of my own.”

“Oh?” Leo said, quirking a brow.

“You’re collar’s inside out.”

“What!?” Leo shouted in disbelief, tugging at the high collar rising from the mantle atop his armor.

Xander and Corrin both burst out laughing again, the oldest Prince actually doubling over as he rested one hand on his knee.

“Corrin! We were waiting to see how long it took him to notice!” Xander laughed.

“We!?” Leo practically shrieked, his face turning scarlet from embarrassment. “You mean Camilla and Elise noticed too!? And none of you said anything!?”

“You should not… dress yourself… when you are half asleep!” Xander gasped between laughs.

Corrin simply nodded, too busy trying to remain on his feet as he laughed and held his stomach to say anything.

“Hey, what’s so funny!?”

“I would guess that your training session is done now, then.”

Corrin and Xander both turned at the two new voices, Leo letting out a frustrated growl as he ignored them and continued to struggle with the clasps holding his mantle to his armor.

The Princes’ two other siblings, their two sisters, approached. The youngest, Elise, rushed forward with an irritated frown on her pretty features, her blonde twintails tied up with matching black bows and fluttering in the ever-present wind atop the tower as it pulled at her pretty black-and-pink riding dress. The older sister, Camilla, swayed her hips as she walked, her womanly form practically spilling out of the low-cut armor she was wearing as she smiled at her brothers, brushing a stray strand of long purple hair out of her face.

“Are you alright, Corrin?” she asked, sauntering right up to him. “You were not hurt during practice, were you?”

“No, Camilla, I’m fine,” Corrin sighed in resignation.

His older sister let out a small sound of relief, smiling again as she pulled his head to her chest in a tight, inescapable embrace.

“Oh, that is good,” she purred into the top of his head. “If you did let me know right away, so I can take extra-special care of you…”

 “I’m perfectly fine, Camilla,” Corrin said, his voice muffled by her embrace. “You can let go of me now. Any time.”

Leo rolled his eyes as Xander cleared his throat.

“Oh, fine,” Camilla pouted, finally releasing Corrin.

Only to be instantly replaced by his younger sister as she wrapped him in a hug of her own.

“I missed you so much, brother!” she said, crushing her face into his chest. “I was worried about you too, you know!”

“Yes, Elise, it’s good to see you again, too,” Corrin said, stroking her hair affectionately.

Both of his sisters were rather clingy at the best of times, especially so when they hadn’t been able to come and see him for a long period of time, such as the one that had just passed. There had been some great celebration in the capital that the four other Royal Siblings had been required to attend, so Corrin had been left all alone for the last month with no one but Flora, Felicia, Jakob and Gunter. Flora and Jakob weren’t particularly fun to talk to, and all Gunter wanted to do with Corrin was train. Felicia was fun to spend time with, but she was so clumsy that spending an extended period of time with her could sometimes be hazardous. In Corrin’s mind nothing beat spending time with his brothers and sisters.

It was nice to have the family back together again.

Elise pulled back, a small blush on her cheeks as she smiled brightly up at Corrin.

“You do like it when I visit, right?” she asked bashfully.

“Of course!” Corrin laughed, putting her head again. “I can’t take even a step outside the fortress, so all I have to look forward to is when all of you visit me!”

“Yay!” Elise cheered, leaping on Corrin’s chest again. “I love spending time with my brother!”

Corrin actually had to step back to keep his balance, still exhausted from the duel with Xander as Elise swung them both around in a circle.

“I love you more than anything in the whole, wide world!” she declared laughingly.

Leo sighed, finally joining the conversation.

“Elise, when do you intend to behave like the adult you technically are?” he asked tiredly.

“Oh, leave her be, Leo,” Camilla chuckled. “I for one think that her cheer is a good compliment for this gloomy kingdom.”

Elise nodded, separating from Corrin again and sticking her tongue out at Leo.

“Well said, Camilla,” Corrin agreed. “Each of you is so dear to me. I don’t know what I would have done had you not come and visited me to break up my boredom, especially after I lost my memories of my childhood.”

“Maybe you could have actually studied a little more,” Leo muttered, crossing his arms and turning away a little to hide the awkward grin on his face from Corrin’s compliment.

“As much as I hate to interrupt this touching family moment,” Xander cut in, chuckling and shaking his head. “Why don’t we take this inside and out of the wind? We’re done for today, Corrin. You did well.”

“I have prepared some tea in the study, milords,” Jakob said, suddenly appearing behind Corrin. “Or shall I prepare something a little more filling for lunch?”

Corrin and Elise both screamed and jumped, and even Leo started a little at the thin man’s sudden appearance. Camilla and Xander simply took his presence in stride, both grinning at their younger siblings’ reactions.

“Yes, something more filling would be best, thank you Jakob,” Xander said with a nod.

Camilla smiled again, taking Corrin’s hand and leading him towards the hatch back into the fortress.

“Come, Corrin, and I will tell you all about the dreadfully dull and boring party we were forced to endure,” she offered.

“O-okay,” he said, stumbling as she pulled. “You don’t have to… Sister, I’m going to trip if you… Waugh! Stairs! Camilla, don’t pull while I’m on the stairs!”

*

Corrin sat by the window in the study later, holding a cup of tea in his hands and humming the tune of the song from his dream under his breath as he looked at the landscape outside. The same rocky, dry landscape he had studied from this spot a thousand times before greeted his gaze, shrouded in darkness from the constant clouds that blanketed the sky over Nohr. Gunter liked to joke that most Nohrians only got to see the sky once or twice in their lifetime unless they travelled. Corrin spent a lot of his free time lying on the roof or the training ground, watching the dark clouds float by and waiting for them to open and show him a glimpse of the sky he had never seen before.

“That is a lovely melody,” Camilla said, coming up behind him.

Corrin glanced over his shoulder, grinning a little in embarrassment.

All five of them had relocated to the study, and after a light lunch of tea and sandwiches each was doing their own thing. Xander was meticulously cleaning his blade, watching with an interested grin while Leo tried to teach Elise how to play chess. The Princess grumbled from time to time, but clearly held the same competitive streak as her older brother judging from the way she demanded a rematch every time she lost.

“I heard it in a dream,” Corrin commented absently.

“It must have been a good dream, then,” Camilla said.

“Actually, it was a pretty horrific nightmare,” he admitted.

Camilla made a thoughtful sound, moving to lean against the windowsill with him. To his surprise, she started to hum the same melody. Corrin glanced up at his sister, somewhat awestruck at the beauty of her voice as she wordlessly hummed softly. It had been a long time since she had sung to him, not since he had been a child, and Corrin had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. A small smile rose to his face as Camilla looked out the window, a wistful expression on her face as she gazed at the same scenery he had. She stopped humming when she realized he was watching her so closely, giving an embarrassed laugh.

“Is it so strange for me to be happy to see you again?” she asked.

“It was only a month,” Corrin groaned, rolling his eyes.

“A month without you is a month that our family is incomplete,” Camilla pouted. “It may well have been an eternity.”

Camilla shifted, moving to another nearby chair and patting her lap with a soft smile.

“Now, I’m all ready,” she said, looking at Corrin expectantly.

Corrin rolled his eyes, sighing as he scooted a little further away on his own chair. He discretely glanced at the other siblings in the room; Corrin had some harsh memories of Leo and Elise teasing him for cuddling with Camilla in the past.

“Oh come on, Camilla, not this again,” he groaned.

“Yes, come now,” she cooed. “It’s time for you to rest your precious little head in my lap. Would you like a lullaby as well? I know how hard it is for you to fall asleep sometimes.”

“Camilla, please,” Corrin pleaded. “It’s been years since we’ve done that.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “It seems like yesterday to me. I could just sit and stare at your cute little sleeping face for hours. I promise I won't kiss your cheeks while you're sleeping. Oh, who am I kidding? I can't promise that!”

“I’m not a child anymore,” Corrin sighed, resting his face in his hands.

“So?” Camilla asked, quirking her head slightly.

“So you don’t need to cuddle me to sleep anymore,” he said.

“I don’t see why not!” Camilla huffed.

“Oh, stop teasing the poor boy,” Xander called from across the room.

Corrin and Camilla both glanced at the others. Leo was frowning, practically glaring at their display of impropriety, while Elise was clearly trying her hardest not to burst into a fit of laughter. Xander had finished with his sword, and leaned it against the bookshelf behind him.

“But it’s been so long since I have seen him!” Camilla complained. “Longer than the three of you, anyway! You and Leo always come for his training, and Elise is free to visit whenever she pleases. I am too busy with the court to come as often as I would like.”

“If it were up to you, you would never leave,” Xander laughed.

“You are a mage, too, sister,” Leo pointed out, deadpan. “Say the word and I’ll swap with you any time.”

“Hey, ow,” Corrin said, stung by his brother’s tone. “Excuse me for being such a burden.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Leo sighed. “Don’t be so sensitive.”

Camilla actually hesitated for a moment, looking back and forth between Leo and Elise and Corrin a few times before smiling sadly at Corrin.

“I’m sorry, my darling little Corrin,” she said, reaching out and stroking his cheek, “But as much as I would love to tutor you personally I must also protect our younger siblings from the Nohrian Court.”

“And here I was starting to think you only cared about Corrin,” Leo scoffed. “How bad can the Nohrian Court truly be?”

“Pray you don’t find out,” Xander sighed, resting his elbows on his knees.

There was a small, awkward silence, broken when Leo reached out and pushed a piece on the chessboard.

“Checkmate,” he said.

“Argh!” Elise shrieked, pounding her fists on the tabletop. “Again! I demand another rematch!”

The siblings laughed, the earlier tension broken again as Elise began to reset the chessboard. Jakob chose that point to enter, knocking lightly before stepping into the study.

“I’m terribly sorry to intrude, milords, but it is time for Corrin’s afternoon classes,” the butler said with a bow.

Corrin sighed, rising to his feet and shuffling across the room.

“We will be staying the night before returning to the Capital tomorrow, so we will see you at dinner, little Prince,” Xander called after him.

“Have fun with your studies!” Elise added, earning a little glower from Corrin as he closed the door.

*

Corrin let out a little groan as he shuffled down the stairs at the end of his day, his shoulders sagging in his mental exhaustion. Why he still had to attend lessons when even Elise had long ago completed her own was beyond him. Sometimes it seemed like they made him take the stupid lessons just because he had nothing better to do cooped up in the Northern Fortress. Classics, Literature, Politics, Philosophy, History, Tactics; he was being taught everything by Jakob and Gunter. Flora had even tried to teach him how to play the lute at one point. Correction, Flora _had_ taught him how to play the lute. That was how boring his life could be.

But now that he was older, Corrin could see that it was mostly pointless busy-work. He wasn’t as smart as Leo was, he honestly doubted anyone was as smart as his brother was, but he had a wealth of knowledge that it appeared neither Elise nor Camilla had. He hadn’t had a lot of time to test this theory with Xander, the Crown Prince not often spending as much more time at the fortress than his training required compared to his other siblings, but Corrin found it hard to believe that his eldest brother had sat patiently through philosophy lessons like he was being forced to.

The lesson had even run long, meaning he had missed dinner. And Flora had roasted some chickens to welcome the royal siblings, too…

That was why Corrin was staggering exhaustedly down the servant stairs behind the kitchen, to see if there were any leftovers for him to gorge himself on. He was starving, only having eaten a little at lunch. Felicia would probably happily cook for him if there was nothing left from dinner, but… Corrin shuddered at the thought. It was probably safer to just have something cold and wait for the evening tea-time.

As he stepped into the kitchen Corrin felt his mouth begin to water, the scent of freshly roasted poultry wafting to his nose and making his stomach gurgle desperately. The kitchen was a simple affair; a central island with three large ovens for cooking bread and roasting meat and vegetables in them along one wall, with another smaller stove in the corner to make soups and tea on.

There were already two people in the kitchen, though, standing over the source of the tantalizing smell; two women were picking at a whole chicken, perfectly roasted vegetables arranged on the plate around it.

Despite his hunger and fatigue Corrin felt a smile rise to his face as he spotted the two new visitors to the fortress.

“Selena! Beruka! I didn’t know you two were here, too!” he greeted happily.

Camilla’s two retainers glanced up, Beruka’s hands dropping to the daggers at her hip before she relaxed, Selena just frowning a little. Both were considered very attractive, or so Leo had said, anyway. Corrin didn’t really have much of a scale to gauge such things on.

Beruka was the shorter of the two, her sky-blue hair kept out of her face with a dirty old headband and her severe expression rarely changing from a perpetual frown. She usually wore an old black suit of Camilla’s armor, but in the fortress had clearly let her guard down a little and stood beneath her usual cloak in a tight sleeveless top and her riding pants. Selena was about Corrin’s height, and kept her scarlet hair tied up in two hip-length twintails that hung down over her shoulders. She, too, had relaxed her usual clothing, forgoing her suit of quilted armor for a simple white blouse, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and her usual pants.

If someone were to ask him, he would probably agree that both women were attractive enough, but couldn’t hold a candle to either of his sisters in beauty.

“I’m shocked,” Selena said, crossing her arms. “Not only does the Prince deem fit to grace us with his presence, but he actually remembers our names!”

Beruka merely bowed a polite, silent greeting before going back to her meal.

“Of course I remember your names!” Corrin laughed, approaching the two women. “When you spend as much time in solitude as I do any new faces are worth remembering. And you two were the first besides the fortress staff or my siblings that came to visit me, so of course I remember you! It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that meeting you two was the highlight of that year.”

Corrin grinned at the memory of his sister introducing the two women to him in the palace courtyard a few years ago. He had been utterly gobsmacked by Selena’s hair, shocked that it could grow so long, and intrigued by Beruka’s cold and silent indifference to everything. Both women had been so different from his siblings, he loved taking every chance he could to speak to them.

Of course, he loved talking to all of his siblings’ retainers when they accompanied them. They were all so colorful and interesting compared to the same faces he saw every day in the fortress. Leo’s retainer Odin in particular...

Selena huffed, turning away from Corrin’s earnest compliment as her cheeks darkened.

“What can we do for you, milord?” she ground out, not looking at him.

“I missed dinner,” Corrin admitted with a chuckle. “Xander and Leo set me a pretty serious lesson regime, and it often runs late.”

Selena huffed again as Beruka looked up this time, wordlessly reaching for an empty plate and sliding it towards him.

“Please help yourself, milord,” she said, her soft voice deceptively feminine given her appearance.

Corrin grinned, reaching for the chicken and pulling off large chunks of breast before taking some potatoes as well. The three of them ate in silence for a time, Corrin grinning a little at the novelty. Usually he only ate with his siblings; Flora, Felicia and Jakob wouldn’t dare eat with their master, and Gunter kept different hours than he did. It was exciting, getting to eat with others for a change.

He still ate quickly, though, eager to return to the study where his siblings were waiting for him. They so rarely visited all at once, and Corrin was looking forward to spending some time as a family.

“So what are the two of you here for, anyway?” Corrin asked conversationally as they ate.

“Where Lady Camilla goes, I go,” Beruka answered without looking up.

Selena let out an exasperated sigh, casting her counterpart a glare before turning her frown on Corrin.

“We’re here as security,” she explained. “If you don’t know why we’re here, then I’m not going to spoil the surprise.”

Corrin cocked his head in confusion, but didn’t press the issue. He’d learned quickly in his few dealings with Selena not to pester her.

“I suppose I had best go and ask my brothers and sisters, then,” Corrin declared, wiping his hands on a rag.


	2. Chapter 2

Corrin stretched his arms above his head, groaning contentedly as he approached the study after his little impromptu dinner with Camilla’s retainers. His stomach now full he felt the day’s fatigue pushed back somewhat, but he would still sleep well that night.

Grinning to himself in anticipation the Prince quickened his pace a little, eager to talk with Xander and Camilla, and play with Elise and Leo. As he neared the room he could see the warm, inviting light of the fire from within and hear his siblings’ laughter. For a moment Corrin slowed, smiling a little to himself as he put a hand on the door and pushed it all the way open. The four other royals all looked up at once, differing levels of excitement registering on their faces upon seeing him.

“Corrin!” Elise cheered, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Ah, it’s about time you finished those lessons,” Leo scoffed, grinning. “What, was my lesson plan too hard for you?”

“Your lesson plans border on sadism, Leo,” Xander laughed.

“Did you eat yet, darling?” Camilla asked.

Leo and Xander were the ones playing chess this time, while Elise watched and Camilla read next to the fireplace. Each of them had removed their armor and was sitting in their casual clothes, relaxed and having fun.

Corrin nodded to his elder sister, sitting down next to Elise to watch the game between the other brothers.

“Yeah, I grabbed some food downstairs,” he said, studying the board. “You didn’t tell me that Selena and Beruka were here, too!”

“Hm, it must have slipped my mind,” Camilla said absently, turning the page and continuing to read.

“Selena mentioned you had something to tell me, too,” Corrin went on.

Pieces on the board clacked, and Xander let out a defeated sigh. Leo leaned back, crossing his arms and chuckling a little, which was a rare occurrence for the stoic prince.

“I don’t know why any of you even bother,” he said. “It’s not like anyone can beat me at this game.”

“There is such a thing as a sore winner, little brother,” Xander said reproachfully, before turning to Corrin.

“Yes, Corrin, we have news regarding-” he started.

“Oh, let me tell him, Xander,” Camilla interrupted, clapping her book closed and shooting up straight in her chair.

The eldest chuckled, silently indicating Camilla continue as he leaned his elbow against the table. Corrin noticed Elise beaming at him, practically jumping up and down in her seat with excitement, and even Leo was frowning less than he usually did.

“We have wonderful news, Corrin! Father asked us to take you back to the capital!”

Corrin stood in silence for a moment, mouth falling slightly ajar as he tried to process this information.

He… he was finally free? He could finally leave the Fortress? It had been a lifetime since he had been sealed inside these cold stone walls and carved his home out of them, but now…

“Really!?” he asked, excitement taking over. “Does that mean…”

“Yes!” Camilla declared. “It means you can finally leave this drafty old Fortress!”

Corrin jumped and cheered, running up and hugging Camilla as he laughed in his enthusiasm.

“Congratulations, little Prince,” Xander said with a nod. “You have earned this.”

“Just… stay close to us,” Leo added. “We don’t need you wandering off and getting sold into slavery or something. Or worse, ending up married by accident…”

“I can’t believe I finally get to go outside!” Corrin laughed.

“You must have been so lonely,” Camilla said, stroking his head. “All this time, separated from the rest of the world…”

“But now you’ll be free!” Elise said, her excitement finally bubbling over. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

“It… it really is,” Corrin agreed, moving back from Camilla’s embrace. “Thanks, Elise. And all of you. Heh. It’s just sinking in now. I’m finally going to leave this place. Maybe now I can finally put my training to use and fight for Nohr with the rest of you!”

“There will be plenty of time to discuss the details with Father once we reach Windmire,” Xander said. “For now, rest and prepare yourself. It is nearly an entire day of riding to get there, and we will be leaving early.”

“I have to pack!” Corrin announced.

He turned, stalling when he caught sight of the thin form of Jakob about a foot behind him. Corrin yelped, jumping a little in surprise at his butler’s sudden arrival.

“I have already taken the liberty, milord,” he said with a bow. “Please, use this time to rest before your journey.”

Corrin nodded, the others chuckling at his reaction. How Jakob always managed to sneak up on him, even after all these years…

*

The next morning Corrin followed his siblings into the entry hall of the Fortress he had called home for fifteen years, Gunter, Jakob, Flora and Felicia standing in a neat row to one side waiting for them. Beruka and Selena were waiting just outside in the courtyard, too, both wearing their armor again. Selena was tapping her foot impatiently, her arms crossed across the suit of quilted armor she wore, while Beruka waited impassively in her hand-me-down black plates, holding the reins of her and Camilla’s wyverns.

He had barely slept a wink through the night, he was so excited. When he did sleep he dreamed of open fields of rippling grass underneath trees of pink blossoms, waving lazily in the wind. It was a silly dream, but he was looking forward to being able to find a landscape like the one from it.

“We are all very happy for you, Lord Corrin,” Flora said, bowing graciously. “After all this time you must be excited to be able to leave the Fortress.”

Corrin nodded, grinning.

“Are the horses ready?” Xander asked.

“Of course, my lord Prince Xander,” Flora said with another bow. “They seem to be as excited as Prince Corrin is.”

“Yeah, because they got to go out about as much as I did,” Corrin scoffed.

Gunter cleared his throat and stepped forward, Felicia tentatively following him.

“We will be joining you, too, milord,” the old Knight announced. “Flora and Jakob will remain here to tend to the Fortress.”

“We will take good care of your home, milord,” Jakob promised as he and Flora both bowed.

“We wish you all safe travels,” Flora added.

Corrin nodded, biting back his thoughts about his ‘home’ and just how little he wanted to return to it in the face of his servants’ dedication. Felicia just stood there nervously, waiting for Gunter to give her some form of instruction.

“Of course,” Corrin said graciously. “I look forward to the day we meet again.”

_Just not here,_ he added in his head, sharing a conspiratorial grin with Felicia. She let slip a little giggle, earning a glare from Jakob and Flora.

“I-I’ll get the horses,” Felicia offered quickly, darting off out the gate.

Grinning ear to ear, Corrin followed his siblings through the hall and into the courtyard. He kept walking a little, up to the main gate that had been opened and looked outside. Gone were the crossed, hard iron bars of the portcullis, his path unimpeded for the first time he could remember. With a deep breath Corrin took a step. And another. He reached the holes that the portcullis’ spiked feet lowered into and he stopped. One more step and he would be further from his home than he had been in nearly two decades. Corrin hesitated for a moment before laughing and leaping over the threshold, running out across the stone bridge and into the world outside the Fortress.

He slowed after a few more steps, the wind buffeting at him as he looked around the outside world. The air felt cooler, and the wind was harsher than he had expected. He looked around at the familiar scenery, up close for the first time.

“Corrin!”

He glanced over his shoulder when Xander called, still grinning like a madman. They were waiting for him, Felicia holding the reins of her and his horses, everyone else already mounted and waiting.

“Bring him out here!” he called back. “I’m not going back in without a fight!”

*

Corrin looked around with awe and wonder clearly writ on his face, eyes wide while he twisted and craned his neck in his saddle as he tried to take in as much of the gloomy, barren countryside as he could.

“Corrin, sit still or you’re going to fall out of your saddle again,” Camilla warned him.

“I can’t help it!” he said excitedly. “Everything’s so… so…”

“Gloomy,” Leo deadpanned, cutting in. “And dark. And barren. Honestly, the whole country looks the same, brother.”

Corrin shook his head, still grinning.

“Everything’s so new,” he said instead. “Like that tree! I’ve never seen one like it before! Oh, or those bushes! Look at them! They’re so fluffy-looking!”

“Those bushes are poisonous,” Selena deadpanned as she passed the trio.

“Well they’re still fluffy!” Corrin laughed.

Leo sighed, rolling his eyes as Camilla chuckled. This was the most excited Corrin could remember being, even beating out the time Xander had taken over his training from Gunter. The old Knight in question was at the back of the group, his steady, quiet pace acting as their rearguard. Xander and Elise were at the front, Felicia wandering along just behind them while Selena drifted back and forth between the two ends. To Corrin it looked like she wasn’t all that confident on a mount, but that might have just been his imagination. Beruka soared overhead on her wyvern, keeping a careful watch for anyone foolish enough to attack the party. Leaving Corrin to enjoy his first outing with his siblings without fear.

He turned again as something in the distance caught his eye, a slightly brighter shade of-

“Waugh!” Corrin shouted, starting to slip.

Leo sighed again, reaching over and yanking him by the arm back into his saddle.

“Sit. Still,” he said, emphasizing the words like a command.

“See? What did I tell you?” Camilla chuckled, clearly trying not to burst out laughing.

Corrin just grinned, turning slower this time to look at the rocks in the distance that had caught his eye.

It was just as Leo had said; the countryside he had seen so far bore a striking uniformity. But after spending so much time studying the same patches of rocky earth outside his fortress Corrin had grown quite adept at noticing the little details. For instance, he could tell that there was a hollow under the rocks in the distance that an animal of some kind made its home in. The rocks had scratches on them, and were worn in the same place from the passing of many feet. As they grew further away from the mound Corrin felt himself frown a little, his curiosity going unsatiated. His grin quickly flew back into place, though, when he realized that soon there would be far more sights for him to study.

He urged his mount forward, coming alongside Xander and Elise.

“Someone’s having fun,” Elise said, her own smiling face a mirror of Corrin’s.

“This is the best day of my life,” he said in response.

“Just wait until we get to the capital,” Xander said. “If you’re so excited by a few rocks I may have to tie you down to keep you in that saddle.”

*

That evening Corrin looked around, eyes wide and mouth agape as he followed his siblings through the Nohrian capital city and seat of their father’s power, Windmire. The paved streets held a certain dignity and grace, white stone and light colors covering everything to make the most of the low lighting. Columns and arches were everywhere, made of the same white stone that most of the buildings along the main colonnade were. Running alongside the road was a small gutter, full of softly trickling, crystal clear water. The city was circular, split up into smaller circular wards within the main outer walls, separated by smaller walls of white stone and plaster. Corrin had studied it carefully as they had approached, looking for their Father’s castle among the other buildings. Elise had explained that Castle Krakenburg was on the western edge of the city, near the mountains, and that it couldn’t be seen from the gate they were entering at. But it didn’t stop Corrin from trying to see it.

Elise and Camilla shared a snicker as Corrin looked around, shocked into speechlessness. Xander grinned and shook his head, and Leo just rolled his eyes.

Gunter and Felicia had gone ahead as soon as the capital had come into sight, meaning to prepare Corrin’s room for the evening and leaving Beruka and Selena as the group’s sole guardians. Not that they needed protecting, but some things were just tradition; the royal family had to have an honor guard of some kind when they ventured outside of Castle Krakenburg.

Corrin continued to look around at the stunningly beautiful architecture, a slight frown appearing on his face. Camilla noticed his furrowed brow and moved her mount closer to his own, the wyvern carefully tucking its wings back as it came alongside Corrin’s horse.

“What is the matter, Corrin?” she asked. “I had thought that you would not stop smiling for the duration of your visit.”

“It’s just…” Corrin said, still looking around. “Where are all the people?”

Corrin found it strange that such a beautiful city would feel so empty. Everywhere he looked the streets and colonnades seemed to be abandoned. Of course, they were spotlessly clean, but they didn’t feel lived in. What people he did see moved quickly, trying to make themselves appear as small as possible as they practically ran from shadow to shadow, doing their best to avoid stepping into the lantern light. A few times as they had entered the periphery of the city Corrin had seen armed patrols, who had all respectfully greeted the party of royals, but aside from them and the shades that he spotted from time to time, Corrin saw few signs of life in the beautiful city.

“It is past curfew,” Leo stated by way of explanation.

When he didn’t continue explaining Corrin went back to glancing around, making a point to try and identify signs of human habitation. It felt wrong that such a beautiful city would feel so empty. He felt a slight sense of relief every time he spotted a light through the cracks between shutters or under doors, but the lingering sense of unease simply wouldn’t leave him.

As they proceeded further towards the heart of the city the buildings became grander and grander, even if they did still retain the same abandoned feel that the rest of the city had. Corrin’s confusion grew as they progressed, and numerous times he found himself looking up above the surrounding buildings, trying to catch a glimpse of Castle Krakenburg. The Northern Fortress that he had been confined to had been huge, with dozens of sealed rooms that its five permanent residents had all but ignored over the years. Its towers had reached into the sky, casting long shadows on the barren landscape around it. Corrin found it highly strange that he had yet to spot any sign of the Castle they were supposed to be heading to.

Before he could give voice to his misgivings the small group arrived at a gateway seemingly randomly placed in the center of the road, a number of heavily armed Nohrian soldiers standing guard over it. Beruka swooped low, her wyvern landing towards the back of the group as she and Selena hung back, Corrin approaching the front where Xander and Camilla were meeting with the guards.

A woman, most likely a Dark Mage, stepped forward, bowing low when she reached the royals. Corrin was shocked by her skin-tight, opaque and incredibly revealing clothes, but her confidence and indifference to her attire clearly attested to the fact that this was a regular uniform for the woman. He cast a glance at Camilla, wearing what appeared to be an armored version of the Dark Mage’s clothes, and wondered how much was their personal preference and how much was their uniforms. The mage brushed a few stray, snow white hairs from her face and behind the strange headdress she wore as she rose from her bow, smiling radiantly at the royals.

“Lords and ladies, welcome back to Castle Krakenburg,” she said. “I trust your journey was… uneventful…”

She trailed off when she spotted Corrin, studying him and where he sat before a hungry look appeared on her face.

“And a very special welcome to you, milord,” she said, bowing specifically to Corrin this time. “I hope you find your stay to be-”

“Yes, yes, Shade, just open the gates,” Camilla cut the woman off, her voice taking on a cold, arch quality Corrin had never heard before.

The mage, Shade, nodded again, licking her lips excitedly as she gave Corrin one last fleeting glance before turning. He gave a little shudder once Shade’s attention was focused elsewhere, imagining that this was how a rodent felt when a snake set its eyes on it.

The other guards were giving Corrin curious looks, too, but refrained from talking to the royals, silently going about their job of opening the gates and then standing at attention as the group passed. Corrin found his discomfort replaced once again by curiosity as they passed through the gate. Perhaps the castle was invisible? Or perhaps it was only as high as the buildings around it, to better camouflage from invaders? Or…

“It’s… underground,” Corrin realized, eyes widening again.

Or not quite; the castle itself was in a large crater or fissure, deep enough that Corrin could hardly make out the bottom from where he stood on the edge. The castle itself was made up of a series of high towers around the central one, easily the width of the entirety of the Northern Fortress, but as if three or four Northern Fortresses had been stacked one on top of the other. The walls of the crater were cut through with more dwellings and structures, each emitting a red light that bathed the entire crater in a sinister crimson glow.

Corrin swallowed nervously, looking down at the towering edifice. It wasn’t what he had been expecting. It did, indeed, bear all the hallmarks or Nohrian construction that he had become acquainted with at the Northern Fortress, but it somehow felt different. Grander, both in scale and in execution. Something about it made him feel uncomfortable.

“Are you coming?” Leo called.

Blinking himself back to his senses, Corrin glanced to his side where his siblings had already begun to descend a great ramp leading to the huge stone bridge to the castle. He glanced around, realizing that he was standing alone at the lip of the crater just inside the gate.

A sound from his back, like stones falling atop one another, made Corrin turn. There, waiting patiently behind him was Beruka, her wyvern positioned between him and the gate. The sound had been her mount shifting, the wyvern’s tough scales rubbing against one another. Beruka looked down at him impassively; not angry or frustrated with his awe, just… emotionless. Behind her Shade waited expectantly, flashing him a warm smile when their eyes met.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” the mage asked, stepping around Beruka’s mount.

Corrin nodded mutely, looking back out over the crater.

“You had best hurry,” Shade giggled, reaching up and stroking his arm. “Prince Leo does not look inclined to wait much longer.”

Corrin nodded, ignoring Shade’s over-familiarity and urging his mount down the ramp to catch up with the others. Beruka followed, leaving Shade grinning at the gate as she watched them leave. When they caught up with the others their mounts were taken to a special stable for the royals and their retainers, and they were expected to proceed on foot across the bridge.

Now that he was closer, Corrin marveled again at the sheer scope of the castle. The bridge alone would have been nearly a hundred meters across, and nearly twenty wide. How it remained in place so far off the ground mystified him, but he decided it better to not think too hard about it, or he would lose his nerve to cross it.

As he took his first few steps onto the bridge Elise raced ahead, laughing and smiling. She stopped halfway across, waving and urging Corrin on. With a few deep breaths he focused on his sister and began to move a little faster.

He just had to tell himself it was no different from training on the tower back at the Northern Fortress.

*

“Stay close to me now, Corrin,” Camilla instructed. “And try not to make eye-contact with any of the women in this room. Definitely do not speak to anyone. In fact, just stay by my side and do nothing.”

“Especially avoid the women,” Leo groaned. “They are… relentless.”

Corrin nodded slowly as Xander led their party through the beautiful palace that their Father called home. His nerves increased a little at his siblings’ warnings, but he swallowed them and followed the other royals into the light of the King’s throne room.

A crowd of people in beautiful and impractical clothes stood milling about, butlers and maids serving them wines and small morsels of food. The Nohrian elite had apparently turned out in record numbers to catch a glimpse of the King’s errant-Prince from the north. According to Camilla people in Windmire had been excited about his arrival for weeks now. There were Royal Guards everywhere in the crowd, the heavily armed and armored Nohrian elite soldiers patrolling suspiciously, with more stationed at the entrances and around the King. Corrin did as he was told, ignoring the beckoning stares and gestures of the court as he marched forward, doing his best to emulate his two brothers’ military-posture.

His curiosity got the better of him, though, and he glanced towards the crowd. The men were all either wearing black armor or military dress uniforms, crisp and pressed, gold braid and weave hanging off of every surface that wasn’t covered in medals or trophies. The women, though, were difficult for Corrin to ignore. Most wore more subdued clothing, but many of the younger women in the crowd were dressed similarly to how Camilla and Shade were. Cleavage and legs were bared, flesh covered by thin, translucent gossamer and silk or simply not covered at all. Some wore delicately detailed corsets, while others appeared to be wearing little more than their smallclothes to Corrin. As he attempted to find something, anything, besides the alluring crowd to focus on his eyes caught the gaze of an older man in heavy robes, a polished golden mask covering half his face. The man frowned at him, and Corrin quickly snapped his gaze back forward.

At the end of the hall, sitting lazily on the throne and resting his jaw on one clenched fist, was King Garon. The old king sat in his regal suit of armor, similar to Xander and Leo’s, but clearly quite older and well-used. His bearded face didn’t change from the heavy frown he wore, even when he caught sight of Corrin. He did stand slowly, though, and the court’s quiet conversation fell silent as he strode to the end of the raised dais his throne sat on.

“I see you made it here safely, Corrin,” he said by way of greeting.

“Yes, Father,” Corrin said with a gracious nod. “Long have I wished to see you, and visit Castle Krakenburg again.”

Corrin had to suppress a smile as he looked up at his father, intent on playing the part of the ‘serious prince’ that Camilla had suggested. To him, this day felt like a dream and now he was finally meeting with his father again.

“It is only thanks to your diligence that you are here,” Garon reminded him. “I am told you are now a warrior almost on par with Xander. You finally possess the strength to become an instrument of Nohr’s power in this world.”

A ripple of surprised murmuring spread out through the gathered nobles at the king’s words. Clearly word of just how strong Corrin had become had not been as publicized as his arrival. The crowd grew quiet again as Elise stepped up next to Corrin to speak.

“But father, will he be alright outside the fortress?” she asked. 

“I worry about that as well,” Camilla agreed from behind them. “Isn’t it dangerous for Corrin to live outside the Fortress’ magical barriers?”

Corrin blinked in shock, shifting to look disbelievingly at his sisters. After all this time he was finally free, and now they wanted to send him back!?

“I appreciate your concern,” he said slowly. “But I earned my way here, and I’m ready to fight.”

Camilla opened her mouth to speak, but before she could King Garon cut her off with a rough chuckle, his laugh like thunder on the horizon.

“Corrin, as you know, Nohr is at war with the eastern kingdom of Hoshido,” the King began.

“Yes, Father,” Corrin nodded.

“We of the Royal Family are descendants of the ancient gods, the First Dragons,” Garon declared proudly. “As inheritors of that divine strength we conquer those who oppose us with ease. One who learns to wield that power can destroy an entire army of common men!”

A chorus of dutiful “oohs” and “ahhs” from the nobles gathered went ignored by Corrin and his siblings as Garon continued.

“Your siblings have all already shown that they have this power,” the King went on. “I expect no less from you.”

“I am aware of your expectations, father,” Corrin said with another nod. “And I will not fail you.”

Garon chuckled again, his lined face finally breaking into a cruel grin.

“You show promise,” he agreed. “But you will need a suitable weapon in order to serve Nohr.”

A veiled attendant stepped forward from behind the throne, holding a sword out to the King. Garon took it and lazily threw it to Corrin, who caught it out of the air.

“Wow,” he breathed, eying the blade.

It was curved, made of black steel shot through with red lines almost like veins, more of a scimitar than the straight blades he had trained with. The blade gave off a cold, hostile feeling, but Corrin found himself drawn to it. It was the first thing his father had actually given him, rather than appointed to him, and he would treasure it.

“This is Ganglari, a sword infused with magic from another world,” Garon explained. “With this sword at your side you will crush the Hoshidan forces with ease.”

Corrin turned the blade over in his hands, marveling at the way it seemed to absorb all of the light around it.

“Thank you for this generous gift, father,” he said after a moment.

“Generous indeed,” Xander muttered so softly Corrin almost missed it.

King Garon clearly hadn’t heard his oldest son, turning away dismissively and returning to his throne.

“Now let us see you put that sword to use, boy,” he declared over his shoulder. “Bring out the prisoners!”

“Prisoners?” Corrin repeated, looking around in confusion.

The crowd of Nohrian nobles began to retreat from the main floor, beginning to flow into recessed staircases along the walls and make their way up to the viewing balconies above. Soon the only ones left on the main floor were the royal family and the masked man Corrin had seen before, standing just to the side of King Garon’s dais. Even Beruka and Selena had lingered near the doorway, and were now being directed by the royal guards to go elsewhere.

“The rest of you, too,” the masked man said. “Make space.”

“Do not presume to order us around, Iago,” Leo said.

Xander clapped a comforting hand on Corrin’s shoulder as he passed, the two other men standing near the dais now as well. Elise gave her older brother a worried look before joining the others, and Camilla drew closer, almost as if she were about to hug him.

“We meant no harm earlier, darling,” she whispered. “Sometimes father will do something just because he was told not to. Now be strong, and trust us. I love you.”

Corrin nodded as Camilla withdrew, moving to stand with the others and leaving him alone in the center of the gallery. He turned, watching the space they had arrived from as more Royal Guards approached, two of the guards in the center of the formation holding heavy-looking chains that dragged behind them instead of their usual weapons. Behind him Elise and Xander both made faces of distaste, Camilla laying a hand on her sister’s shoulder while Leo watched on impassively. Corrin felt his breath catch in his chest as the Royal Guards parted, practically dragging two people into the center of the throne room before him and the others, and then roughly kicking the backs of their legs to force them into a kneeling position.

Two people knelt in chains and rags, glaring up at Corrin.

One, a thin, green-haired man, looked far calmer than the muscular woman with hair the colour of parchment at his side. She tugged on the chains, earning a kick in her ribs from one of the Guards. Neither looked anything like Corrin or his siblings, or any of the other Nohrian people he’d seen. So then they had to be Hoshidans.

“These two are prisoners from our most recent skirmish with Hoshido,” Garon explained, confirming his suspicions. “I want to see your power with my own eyes. Kill them.”

The green haired man sighed while the woman let out a vicious snarl, struggling against her chains again and receiving another heavy kick.

“B-but…” Corrin said, hesitating.

He looked to his brothers for reassurance. Xander nodded slightly, a sad look in his eyes.

“Release them,” Garon ordered with a lazy wave.

The Royal Guards moved forward again, forcing the two prisoners to the ground before taking their shackles off and retreating to a distance. One guard dropped a dagger and a rough wooden club in front of the prisoners before he left. The woman snatched the club up and was on her feet instantly, but the man moved slower, more deliberately.

Corrin turned to face them properly, holding Ganglari at the ready.

The woman growled, wiping her bruised face with the back of her hand before spitting a wad of bloody saliva off to the side and levelling her club at him. Corrin was momentarily fascinated by the twin red tattoos beneath each of her eyes, something he had only read about in books before.

“I am Rinkah!” she declared in a strong voice. “Daughter of the Flame Tribe’s honorable chieftain! What is your name, Nohrian Prince? Tell me so I can carve it on your tombstone!”

Corrin swallowed his nerves, praying that he didn’t stutter.

“It’s Corrin!” he declared, his voice strong.

The green-haired man’s face went slack from surprise for a moment as he mouthed something to himself, before shaking his head and stepping forward.

“I am Kaze, a ninja of Hoshido. Come,” he said simply.

Nodding, Corrin steeled himself. Before he could make the first move Rinkah bellowed like an ox and charged him, screaming some incomprehensible war cry at the top of her lungs as she swung her club. Corrin admittedly faltered a little in the face of such raw violence, but stood firm, recalling what his brothers had taught him. He waited for the Flame Tribe woman to get closer before he spun around her, smashing Ganglari’s pommel into the back of her head. With a grunt she went down hard on all fours, momentarily dealt with. Corrin simply stepped around her and moved towards Kaze. The ninja let out another soft sigh, stepping to meet him.

Kaze struck like lightning, his dagger bouncing off of Ganglari as Corrin’s instincts took over. He had never fought anyone actually faster than himself before, and he felt a brief moment of fear. He quashed it, though. He had just gotten out of the Northern Fortress, and he’d be damned if he got sent back again so soon. All he had to do was defeat the two Hoshidans and probe to his family that he could take care of himself. No one had to die, just so long as he beat them handily. He was sure of it.

With a growl of his own Corrin struck high, forcing the ninja to evade. That was his advantage here; with his longer weapon Corrin had reach. He just had to use it.

Spinning Ganglari in his grip the way Xander had taught him Corrin pressed Kaze further back, the ninja struggling to parry with the smaller dagger. Corrin hopped back and spun again when he heard another guttural war cry from Rinkah, back on her feet now. He spun, landing a kick to her abdomen and dropping her to her knees again before smashing the top of her head with the flat of Ganglari’s blade.

“Stay down this time!” he hissed.

“Never! Nohrian scum!” she spat, lurching up to one knee.

Corrin shrugged helplessly, lashing out with his knee and shattering her nose. Rinkah fell backwards, giving a weak moan and lying still this time as Corrin kicked her club away for good measure. He turned again in time for Kaze’s dagger to score a line across the front of his armor; if he hadn’t turned at just that moment the blow would have opened his throat.

The thought made him shudder as he backpedaled, bringing his sword up again.

Kaze slumped, panting and holding his ribs as he advanced. Corrin felt his stomach churn as realization set in.

These two were already wounded.

This was never meant to be a fair fight, only some sick initiation for him.

He growled again, his frustration boiling over as he charged at the other man once more. The ninja grinned a little, dropping his guard slightly and letting the pommel of Corrin’s sword through to make a sickening crack against the side of his head. Kaze dropped, too, falling not far from Rinkah.

Corrin stood over them, a sickening feeling welling up in his stomach. This wasn’t the glorious first battle fighting for Nohr that he expected. This just felt like him being a bully.

He looked up at where his siblings were watching, all wearing impassive masks to hide their emotions. Above them their father grinned, clearly enjoying the spectacle. Only then did Corrin finally notice the cheering and chanting from above him as the Nohrian court cried out for blood.

The Nohrian prince turned again as a weak chuckle reached him.

“So… this is how it ends,” Kaze muttered, lying on his back. “Ah… I regret nothing.”

Corrin looked at them for a few more seconds, the shouting from the crowd above them growing deafening.

“Don’t just stand there, idiot boy!” Garon roared from his throne. “Finish them!”

On shaky, uncertain feet Corrin moved over to where the prisoners were on the ground. He’d taken great pains to keep them alive during the fight, but apparently that had been pointless. His father had ordered their deaths, which meant that he had to… he had to…

Kaze grinned up at him from the ground, and Rinkah let out a defiant sound halfway between a moan and a growl. They were people, just like him or his siblings, like Gunter or Jakob or Felicia and Flora.

With a sinking feeling Corrin realized that he couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to take a life so haphazardly. It felt wrong, killing in cold blood.

It was wrong, and he wouldn’t do it.

“Father, they are beaten!” Corrin called. “Do you really want me to execute helpless prisoners?”

The crowd above grew silent as Garon snarled, lurching to his feet. The king stomped towards the edge of the dais, standing just above his other children now.

“Insolent boy!” Garon thundered. “You dare question me!? I ordered you to kill them!”

Corrin flinched under his father’s wrath, but he didn’t falter. It just didn’t feel right.

Behind him Rinkah and Kaze both managed to get back up to their knees, looking at Corrin’s back with confusion plainly evident to see on their faces.

“But father, it feels wrong!” Corrin insisted.

There was a tense moment where not a sound was made in the throne room as Corrin and Garon eyed each other above the head of the rest of the royal family, before the King finally spoke.

“I will not argue the point any further,” he said, his voice eerily calm now.

Garon raised his hand, circles of golden light beginning to rotate around him. Corrin’s blood froze, instantly recognizing spellcasting. He braced himself, holding Ganglari across his chest to absorb some of the blow, but still Garon’s spell sent him sprawling between the two prisoners. He felt his skin blister and crack beneath his armor, and the smell of burning cloth and flesh filled the throne room. Both Hoshidans looked at Corrin with a mixture of awe and shock as he groaned, climbing back to his feet.

“Gods that hurt,” Corrin mumbled, stepping back in front of the prisoners.

Wondering just what in the hells he was doing, Corrin looked back up at his father and grinned. He wasn’t about to let the man kill defenseless prisoners, not for any reason. Even if it was his Father. The difference between right and wrong was simple. King Garon had to know that. This had to still be part of his test…

Above them the nobles in the galleries were going insane, shouting and screaming that Garon kill him and the prisoners.

“Corrin, what are you doing!?” Elise shouted.

“Unbelievable…” Xander sighed, shaking his head.

Garon simply grinned again, almost as if he were impressed.

“You would defy me directly, boy?” he asked, his voice barely audible above the uproar.

Xander and Camilla both spun to their father, imploring looks on their faces.

“Father, please!” Xander pleaded. “He doesn’t yet understand our situation!”

“Please forgive him, Father,” Camilla added.

“Fine,” Garon declared, turning away dismissively. “Xander, you kill them. If anyone gets in your way, kill them too.”

Xander groaned, clenching his jaw but nodding.

“These people can’t fight anymore!” Corrin insisted. “Why not show mercy!?”

Garon remained silent as he moved to stand before his throne, his face an expressionless mask as Xander turned to face Corrin and drew his sword.

“Xander, please!” Camilla begged, turning to her brother now. “He is just tired and confused from the journey!”

“Stand down, Corrin,” Xander instructed, ignoring her. “This isn’t-”

“Oh, enough already!”

Corrin spun as the two Hoshidans cried out in pain, dropping to the ground as ghostly branches pierced their bodies. Leo sighed, lowering his hand as the spell residue dissipated from around him.

“Why does it always fall to me?” he asked no one in particular.

“Father, I have dispatched our enemies on behalf of my softhearted brother,” Leo declared, looking directly into Corrin’s eyes. “I only ask that you be merciful in your punishment of him.”

“Enough,” Garon spat. “I grow weary of this. I will consider this matter later. Iago. Attend to me.”

With that, Garon stepped off the dais, the masked man following after the king without so much as a backward glance.

Corrin groaned, resisting the urge to fall to one knee.

“Niles, Odin! I would examine the prisoner’s belongings! Remove the bodies, bring them to my quarters!” Leo shouted.

His two retainers, a blonde man in mage’s robes and a tanned man with an eyepatch silently came forward, dragging the two Hoshidan bodies away. Corrin grit his teeth, advancing on his younger brother.

“Leo, how could you do that!?” he hissed. “They were defeated! They didn’t have to die!”

“Our father ordered them to die, so they had to die,” Leo said quickly, his voice pitched low. “Now shut up before you make any more of a scene here. You, too, Camilla. Show some pride as the second in line for the throne. The entire court saw your hysterics.”

Their sister nodded, resting her hand on a tearfully silent Elise’s shoulder. Xander sheathed his sword before taking Corrin by the uninjured shoulder and steering him towards the back of the throne room.

“Come,” he instructed. “We must talk. Mark my words, little prince, one day an act of kindness may be the death of you.”

“Then I’ll die without regrets,” Corrin said, grinning over his shoulder at his brother.

Xander sighed, shaking his head a little as they left. Try as he might, the oldest Prince couldn’t quite hide the proud smile at his brother’s words.

*

“Ow! Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!”

“Hold still! If you don’t let Elise clean the burns first they’ll leave scars.”

Corrin stopped his pained fidgeting at Leo’s reprimand, Elise sniffling a little as she continued to rub salve onto her brother’s injured shoulder.

The three of them were in a private room in the palace, where exactly Corrin wasn’t sure. Somewhere in Leo’s quarters, maybe. Camilla was standing a few paces away, frowning silently as their sister treated Corrin’s wounds. Xander had left them after bringing them here, claiming he would ‘see to the Hoshidans’ bodies’. Corrin fidgeted again, naked to the waist as Elise slathered his magical burn with a special ointment to clean it properly. The youngest in the family had trained to be a healer since she was small, something Corrin was now exceedingly grateful for.

“That was really stupid,” Elise said, her voice still thick. “To defy Father like that, in front of the entire court, too…”

She put down the rag she’d been using to apply the salve with, and Corrin smiled over his shoulder.

“I couldn’t just kill them,” he said. “That would have been wrong.”

“Oh my dear, sweet little Corrin,” Camilla said, pride overflowing from her words.

“You are such an idiot,” Leo sighed, pinching the skin between his eyes in frustration.

Elise sniffled again, wrapping herself around Corrin’s uninjured arm in a tight embrace and resting her face against his shoulder.

Corrin sighed again, deflating. In the course of a few hours his ‘best day ever’ had taken a turn for the worse. His own Father had even attacked him. He didn’t have many memories of the man from when he was small, but the man in those memories had been vastly different to the one he’d met today. He wondered what would become of him now that he had so openly defied their father.

“Camilla and Elise always make such a fuss when you’re upset,” Leo sighed, sinking into a chair across from Corrin. “You know I should have followed Father’s orders and killed them.”

“But you knew it was wrong, too,” Corrin said, grinning again.

“Maybe,” Leo said. “But right and wrong don’t matter. Father’s word is law.”

“I know,” Corrin said, his voice soft. “But I couldn’t just… they were already defeated. There was no point. And… thank you for helping me help them.”

Leo sighed again, nodding silently.

“And I’m sorry for teasing you about your collar,” Corrin added with another grin.

“You can repay me by not mentioning it again,” Leo groaned.

Camilla and Elise both giggled a little, the mood slightly lighter than it had been before.

“Unfortunately, I doubt this will be the last we hear of this,” Camilla said, slowly crossing the room to stand behind Corrin.

She gently began to run her hand though his hair, and Corrin let out a small sigh as he felt himself relax a little.

“Father never forgets a slight,” she added, frowning.

Elise shifted, separating from Corrin and reaching for the healing staff she had brought from her own quarters.

“That should have been long enough,” she said. “Hold still now.”

Corrin let out a sigh as he felt his pain recede, a calm blue light enveloping his injured shoulder and the burns shrinking until they disappeared completely in a manner of moments.

“It will still hurt a little until your body realizes that it’s been healed,” Elise explained. “The phantom pain will pass in about an hour or so.”

“I have got to learn how to do that,” Corrin said laughingly, rotating his shoulder a little.

Elise chuckled, too, smiling as she put down her staff.

“It may have been stupid, but that was still really brave,” Elise said, looking up at Corrin. “I’m really proud of you, brother.”

Corrin nodded, smiling down at Elise as he rose to his feet.

“Thanks, sis,” he said, reaching for his shirt.

He stopped just before pulling it on, though, as he noticed the great hole in the shoulder. Leo sighed, holding another plain black shirt out to him.

“And now you owe me a new shirt, too,” the blonde prince stated.

With a grin Corrin pulled the shirt on.

“I’ll have Felicia make another one right away.”

“No!” Leo shouted suddenly, before clearing his throat. “Er… I mean, no, there’s no need to… uh, have Felicia… I mean…”

Corrin and their sisters started to laugh before Leo sighed and shook his head, grinning along with them. Corrin felt a little bad about using Felicia as the butt of a joke, but their spirits had needed raising. And the maid’s negligible skills in anything domestic were well known…

Xander chose that moment to make his entrance, smiling a little in relief as he saw his siblings laughing.

“Well, it is good to see spirits are still high,” he said. “Corrin. Perhaps you should come with me for a moment?”

*

Corrin took a deep breath as Xander led him outside, the cool night-time air pleasantly fresh in his lungs. They were standing just outside of one of the smaller gates that led to the palace, the deserted Nohrian capital in front of them. Waiting for the two princes were four figures; two Corrin recognized as Xander’s retainers, Laslow and Peri, and the other two were the Hoshidan prisoners.

Laslow grinned a little when he spotted Corrin, flipping the fringe of his steel-grey hair from his face as he waved a friendly greeting. Peri was sulking, though, hugging her lance tightly to her chest as she glared at the two Hoshidans, barely even acknowledging the arrival of her liege. Corrin had always been fascinated by Peri’s outlandishly colored hair and makeup, but Xander had advised him never to bring it up.

“Prince Xander!” Peri cried as they approached. “Laslow was so mean to me! He said I couldn’t kill either of the prisoners!”

“No, Peri, Laslow was right; you can’t kill them,” Xander sighed.

“Thank you, milord,” Laslow sighed. “She just wouldn’t listen. And hello again, Corrin. Finally made it out of the Fortress, eh?”

Corrin stepped forward, shaking hands with the nimble swordsman.

“I did,” Corrin said. “Good to see you again, too Laslow. And hello again, Peri. Thank you for restraining yourself.”

The other retainer huffed again, pouting and glaring at the prisoners.

Xander stepped up to them, frowning as well as they looked up at him suspiciously. He unceremoniously dumped two bags at the Hoshidans’ feet, obviously filled with their belongings.

“Listen well. It is only my brother’s kind heart that has bought your freedom. Here are your belongings, your weapons, and a little food. Disappear now, lest you be spotted by the King’s men.”

The man that had introduced himself as Kaze silently bent down, picking up his bag and nodding once in gratitude at Corrin before turning and disappearing into the night. Rinkah glared at the Nohrians for a few more moments before clicking her tongue in annoyance.

“I am no hostage to be freed,” she spat, glaring. “You said your name was Corrin, right? When next we meet I will make you pay for this humiliation.”

She snatched up her own bag and began to stomp away, her pace far more confident than that of Kaze’s. As she walked she fished a ceramic mask out of the bag, strapping it into place atop her head. The mask’s furred edges blended with her hair, making it seem like flames were licking the top of her head in the darkness.

“I was hoping that when next we met it could be as friends,” Corrin called after her.

Rinkah froze, spinning with a terrifying glower on her face.

“Softhearted fool!” she snarled. “I am a warrior of the Flame Tribe! You know not what you suggest!”

“I know that right now Hoshido and Nohr are at war,” Corrin said, stepping forward. “But I’m trying to plan ahead for the end of that war when we finally have peace, here, Rinkah.”

The woman faltered at the use of her name, shaking her head a little.

“I heard rumors from the guards of a sheltered Nohrian prince who knew nothing of the world,” she said, her voice slightly calmer. “I see now they were true.”

Rinkah turned away again, before adding one last thing over her shoulder.

“If we should meet again, by then the world will no doubt have taught you the error of your ways.”

With that the Hoshidan warrior left, following the path that Kaze had chosen. Corrin stood silently, watching her go with Xander and his two retainers for a time before the Crown Prince sighed and placed a hand on Corrin’s shoulder.

His, until very recently, injured shoulder.

“Gah!” Corrin screamed, falling to his knees as the phantom pain sent waves of agony shooting through his arm.

“Corrin! I’m so sorry! Was that where Father hit you!?”

“Yes!”

Behind the two Princes Laslow sighed, grinning and shaking his head as Peri watched on in sick fascination. Even if she didn’t get to kill anything, at least she got to hear some shouts of pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Corrin winced a little as he rotated his shoulder, testing the recently healed flesh as he walked through the deserted Royal Wing of the castle.

“Shoulder still bothering you, Prince Corrin?”

He glanced to his side, Xander’s retainer Laslow giving him a concerned look. The steel-haired swordsman had been ordered to lead him to his quarters in the castle, a job he’d taken to with his usual resigned grace while Xander had told Peri, yet again, that no she could not chase down the prisoners they had just freed.

“I’m fine, Laslow,” Corrin said with a small grin. “Just a little sore. Really.”

The retainer grinned back.

“You know, you remind me a lot of the tactician I served under back home,” he said. “He was stubborn, too. If it’s still sore in the morning make sure you have Lady Elise look at it.”

“Of course,” Corrin chuckled.

It was relieving for him to see that his siblings all surrounded themselves with such good people. Laslow may have had a reputation for being an almost insufferable flirt, but he was also loyal to a fault. Peri… was a little more complicated, but Corrin assumed that Xander saw something in her that he didn’t. Beruka and Selena were the same as Laslow, as were Leo’s retainers Odin and Niles. And Elise’s retainers, Arthur and Effie, were… again, a pair of eccentric personalities, but their weirdness was offset by their utter dedication to the Princess.

“Ah, I see a smile,” Laslow chuckled. “At least your optimistic attitude wasn’t injured.”

“No, just my pride,” Corrin sighed. “That and any chance of getting to stay outside the Northern Fortress again.”

Laslow was silent for a moment, a rare introspective look flitting across his handsome features before he broke out into his trademark grin once more.

“Oh, I think you’d be surprised,” he said with a wink. “Your brothers and sisters have been petitioning the king for years now to let you join them here in Windmire. I doubt he’d send you back so soon, if only to just spare himself from their pleas.”

Corrin laughed along with the retainer, hissing in pain after a few chuckles and clutching at his shoulder again.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have made you laugh,” Laslow said.

“It’s fine,” Corrin grinned. “I needed it.”

Laslow nodded, and they walked on in silence for a time. Xander’s retainer broke it, though, when he glanced over at Corrin.

“Did you need something, milord?” he asked.

“Besides a bed and some painkilling herbs? No, not really.”

“Oh. Were you not staring at me just now?” Laslow persisted. “I could have sworn you were.”

“No, I was just walking,” Corrin said.

The young Prince’s brow furrowed as Laslow shrugged, trying to figure out what his brother’s retainer was getting at.

“How peculiar,” Laslow muttered. “I could have sworn I felt someone staring at me.”

“I can barely keep my eyes open right now,” Corrin laughed.

“Perhaps I was mistaken. My apologies, milord,” Laslow said, his cheery disposition returning. “Anyways! Since we're both here in the capital now, perhaps milord would like to join me for a bite?”

“Of course!” Corrin said instantly. “You always talked about the best taverns and alehouses in the city! I can’t wait for the tour!”

“Really!? That's wonderful news!” Laslow cheered, practically bouncing in his excitement. “With you there, the fair lasses in town are far less likely to flee from my advances!”

Corrin laughed again, wincing a little as he did so and settling for a grin.

“On second thought, I think I’ll be busy,” he chuckled. “I have to do… not that.”

Laslow barked out a hearty laugh before giving a mock sigh, holding the back of his hand to his brow.

“Ah, there you are. My dear old friend Rejection. How are you, old boy? I'm terrible as ever, thanks. Oh? No, I knew you'd be back-”

“Give it a rest, Laslow,” Corrin chuckled. “Xander warned me not to let you drag me into chasing skirts with you.”

“Hey! Not so fast!” Laslow declared indignantly. “Life is full of twists and turns and unexpected happenings! We should approach each day as if it were our last— as for all we know it will be! Just think, tomorrow I could be spirited away—or worse! What if you never have an opportunity to see me again? Would you not give anything to then apologize for how you treated me? Lord Corrin, I must insist you stop laughing!”

Corrin held up a hand apologetically, holding his other to his ribs as he laughed as gently as he could so that he did not disturb his injured shoulder further. An endeavor that he was realizing, as his laughter grew and his shoulder throbbed, was pointless.

“For not helping you harass those poor townswomen all day?” Corrin asked between gasps. “No. Besides, I doubt Gunter would let us have any kind of fun even if I did go. Now stop making me laugh! My shoulder is killing me!”

“Fine, fine. I will relent,” Laslow sighed, crossing his arms with a grin as he added “for now!”

Eventually they came out into a large room, easily three times the size of Corrin’s quarters back in the Northern Fortress.

“And here we are,” Laslow said.

Corrin’s grin dropped as he simply stared mutely at what was, apparently, to be his new dwellings.

A large fireplace occupied one wall, with comfortable-looking sofas and chairs sitting facing it. Behind it was a long table, immaculately set as if a dinner party would sweep into the room at any moment. Doorways went off from the central area, one clearly leading to a bathroom and another to a kitchen; Corrin assumed the other doors led off to more living areas, or perhaps bedrooms. Unlike the threadbare, basic necessities level of furnishings that Gunter insisted on for the areas of the Northern Fortress that Corrin and the others used, this apartment was a world removed. Lush fabrics and plush pillows covered almost everything, rich carpeting underfoot and curtains of what appeared to be some form of silk.

Corrin blinked a few times before he was finally able to speak.

“Is… my room through here?” he asked eventually.

Laslow barked out a laugh, slapping the Prince on his good shoulder before shaking his head.

“No, Lord Corrin,” he chuckled. “This is your apartment. Gunter and Felicia should already be set up-”

There was a loud shriek, followed immediately by a loud crash from the kitchen. Corrin and Laslow exchanged a glance, both of them resting their hands on the hilts of their swords as they strode purposefully through the space, all thoughts of anything else forgotten. They practically barged into the kitchen, coming to a stop when they spotted Felicia sitting forlornly on the ground, surrounded by shattered dishes.

Laslow gave Corrin a questioning look as the Prince sighed and relaxed, shaking his head a little.

This was nothing new for the maid. She was always breaking things and hurting herself. Corrin had once heard one of the other staff members at the Northern Fortress, before they had all been called away, joke that Felicia alone kept the potters of Nohr in business.

“Are you alright, Felicia?” he asked.

“Ow! That stings!” the maid hissed, pulling her hand away from her brow.

Corrin sucked in a breath at the sight of the blood covering her hand.

“Oh, wow, that's a big cut on your forehead,” he sighed. “Are you all right? Here, let me take a look... Yeesh. We should put some salve on this before it leaves a scar.”

“And with that, I take my leave,” Laslow chuckled. “Oh, and I don’t know if anyone’s told you this yet or not, but make sure you avoid the noblewomen here in Nohr. I know it must sound strange coming from me, but trust me, that’s the last thing you want to get mixed up in. I think I had to break off four or five engagements before I learned my lesson… But that’s a story for another day. Good evening, Lord Corrin.”

With that perplexing warning, Laslow spun gracefully on his heel and left the apartment, leaving Corrin alone with a moping Felicia. He grinned a little as he held his hand out to her.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Felicia sniffled, taking his hand and letting him pull her up before being led to one of the chairs in the dining space back in the main room of the apartment. Corrin sat her down and went quickly to his pack, digging up the small container of healing salve he kept for ‘Felicia-emergencies’. As he returned to the main sitting room Felicia looked up, sniffling as he approached.

“I’m sorry lord Corrin,” she moaned. “I'm so useless I can't even carry a few stupid dishes around... I wish I could serve you like a proper maid. Or at least stop breaking things... Then you wouldn't have to look after me all the time.”

Corrin just chuckled and shook his head, leaning close as Felicia pulled her fringe back from her forehead to inspect her injury. Thoughts on how, exactly, she’d managed a wound to her forehead while dropping dishes went unanswered as he focused instead on ensuring that there was nothing left in the wound. Nodding in satisfaction that the injury was clean, Corrin scooped a generous glob of salve onto his fingertips and gently started to rub it in.

“Aw, come on Felicia, it’s not that bad,” Corrin assured her. “We're practically family, after all! And Family helps each other out. Besides. It's the least I could do for someone who saved my life.”

She glanced up at Corrin, sniffling again before speaking.

“I saved your life?” she asked.

“Yeah, don’t you remember?” he asked with a chuckle.

Felicia sniffled and shook her head when Corrin’s hand retreated for more salve.

“It was when I had that terrible fever, years ago,” he reminded her. “You know the one? Just after you and Flora joined us at the Fortress. I just kept getting sicker and sicker… Gods, Camilla and Elise were beside themselves with worry.”

“Oh. Oh! I do remember that!” she said, quickly.

Corrin chuckled again as her nodding caused a line of salve to be rubbed down the side of her face. He shook his head as she made a sound of distress and another sob while he wiped the salve away with his sleeve. Halfway through the motion he remembered that this was actually Leo’s shirt, but he ignored the thought. Surely some salve would wash out…

“I do remember,” she went on in a more subdued tone. “Even then, I was a mess. I couldn't care for you properly at all! I had no idea what to do when you fell ill...”

“Well, you didn't know the normal ways to treat an illness, that's true,” Corrin went on. “But that didn't matter to you. You kept my fever down for days using your ice powers. Drawing the heat out of me and into yourself...”

“Y-yes,” Felicia said, averting her gaze.

“And yes, Flora did tell me how extremely dangerous it was. That you could have died.”

“It was the only thing I could think to do at the time…” Felicia muttered, wilting guiltily.

Corrin shook his head and grinned, standing and wiping the last of the salve on his fingers off on his pants this time.

“Well, as grateful as I am I’m going to have to put a ban on any and all suicidal actions on your part,” he laughed. “I want you to look out for yourself, too.”

Felicia looked at him silently for a moment, her cheeks growing darker before she finally let out a high-pitched squeak and nodded her head vigorously. Corrin just laughed, leaning back against the table and looking around the apartment curiously.

“Where is Gunter, anyway?” he wondered out loud.

Usually the old knight would have been the first person into the kitchen after hearing a scream…

“He said something about meeting with some old friends,” Felicia explained, clearing her throat as she rose. “I’ll get dinner started, then, milord-”

“No!” Corrin shouted.

“Er… no, don’t worry about it. I’ll… take care of it! Why don’t you just rest? We don’t want you re-opening that wound, yeah? Yeah!”

*

The next morning Corrin stifled a yawn, stumbling along behind Elise as she dragged him full-speed through the palace again. She had barely given him enough time to pull his boots on before she’d descended on him in a flurry of pokes and prods to get him moving.

“I just know you’ll love the palace!” she said for possibly the fifth or sixth time. “I even made sure we had permission to go outside and view the grounds and the gardens around the crater when we’re done!”

Corrin nodded again, making a grunt that he hoped was less resignation and more acceptance.

Behind them Elise’s retainer Effie followed, smiling easily at the Princess’ eternal vigor. The blonde woman, only a few years Elise’s senior, wore her heavy armor the same way that Corrin might wear his clothes, almost entirely ignorant of the presence of the thick plates. Her long blonde hair was tied back from her face in a simple bun, a few loos strands framing her plain face. Despite the seeming air of frailty around her, though, Corrin knew from the times she had visited the Northern Fortress with Elise that she was a fearsome opponent and an incredibly talented soldier, as was befitting one of the royal family’s retainers.

Instead of her usual lance, though, Effie carried a large picnic basket, leaving Corrin no doubt of his sister’s plans for their lunch.

“You slept so late!” Elise complained again. “Even after we made plans! Felicia was right, you are a slugabed!”

“Alright, alright,” Corrin sighed. “I’m sorry! I was exhausted from yesterday. Can you forgive me?”

Elise stopped, turning away from him with a pout. She gave him a little glance from over her shoulder before pouting and turning away again.

“You know what I want,” she said, crossing her arms.

Corrin rolled his eyes and grinned, stepping up to his baby sister and brushing her hair aside before planting a kiss on her brow.

“I’m sorry, Elise,” he said. “You’re the best little sister in the world. I’m blessed to have you.”

“Yay!” she cheered, all smiles again as she spun and wrapped her arms around Corrin’s neck in a tight hug.

“You’re forgiven! I love you, big brother!”

“Ack! Okay, Elise! I love you, too! Can’t… breathe!”

Elise laughed again, dancing away and further down the hall. Corrin grinned, rubbing his neck a little as he moved to keep up. Effie chuckled a little, following behind.

“I am so glad you are here, Prince Corrin,” she said. “Lady Elise is always so happy after she returns from the Northern Fortress, but now that you’re here it’s like the sun has come out from behind a cloud.”

“Yeah, she does seem to be more excited than usual,” Corrin agreed.

“Come on, slow-pokes! We’re here!” Elise called from up ahead.

Corrin shook his head, breaking into a jog as he hurried to catch up with the spritely princess. He slowed to a stop when he came out into the open air garden on the edge of one of Castle Krakenburg’s towers. Rows of flower beds filled the space, each full of a different type of flower. Underfoot was a carpet of thick, rich grass that he recognized only from having read about it, something that Corrin never thought he’d see in the dark Nohr. Elise grinned up at him, her hands clasped behind her back as she stood between two rows of beautiful white lilies.

“This is my favorite place in all of Nohr,” she said.

Corrin nodded, looking around in wonder at the lush greenery as he slowly approached her.

“It takes a lot of effort just to maintain this garden,” she explained, looking around. “I convinced the gardeners to let me help, so it’s kind of… a special place to me. Father and I used to drink tea together out here when I was young, but…”

She trailed off, a melancholy expression falling across her pretty features. Corrin couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter, though, at the thought of their father sitting in on a garden tea-party.

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t see that,” Corrin chuckled.

“He wasn’t always like that, you know,” Elise sighed. “When we were all younger, he was… kinder. I hardly remember it, but Camilla tells me about how he instructed Xander in swordsmanship with a proud smile on his face, and how he’d read to Leo every night.”

Corrin nodded. Not that he didn’t want to know more about their father, but after the previous evening he wanted a distraction, not to dwell on things further. He also noticed that Elise didn’t mention their father spending time with Camilla, but chose not to pry. Camilla would tell him if she wanted him to know.

“Well, I’m not Father, but I’d love to join you all the same,” he chuckled.

Elise perked up almost instantly, giving an excited nod. Effie was already setting up for them, laying out a blanket and placing the picnic basket on top of it. As she placed the basket down there was a surprisingly deep thud, making Corrin wonder just how heavy it had been and marvel at the fact that she’d carried it around so easily. Elise practically threw herself into the basket in her haste to bring out their lunch, or breakfast in Corrin’s case, chattering all the while. Effie retreated, standing attentively to one side, waiting to be of assistance if she was needed.

“Arthur’s going to meet us later when we go for our tour outside the palace,” Elise explained, laying out some plates. “You’re going to love the capital! Windmire is such a beautiful city. I can’t wait to show you where I get my dresses made! You need a new shirt, right? Oh! And we can have afternoon tea at this little café along one of the aqueducts! The sound of the running water is just divine, it’s so relaxing! We’re going to have so much fun doing all the stuff I’ve always wanted to do with you!”

Corrin nodded, watching as Elise began to pull sandwiches and plates and bowls of other foods out of the basket. He glanced up as Effie gave an almost silent moan, eying the food longingly.

“Er… would you care to join us, Effie?” he asked.

“N-no, milord!” she answered quickly. “I’d never dream of intruding on Lady Elise’s time with you-”

“Why do you think I packed so much food?” Elise laughed, holding up a third plate. “Come on, Effie! Join us!”

*

Later that afternoon Corrin walked slowly through Windmire, marveling at the perfectly paved streets and the neat, uniformity of the city around him. Elise was a small way ahead of him chatting animatedly with her retainers, leaving Corrin to follow with Gunter.

Elise’s second retainer, Arthur, had met them at the bridge to the city, as boisterous as ever. The older, muscular blonde man had greeted Corrin with a confident smile, shaking his hand in a firm grip while babbling his usual talk of justice. Gunter had met them, too, insisting on joining them. The dour old knight had been mostly silent throughout the trip, watching over the two royals with as much seriousness as he showed in all of his duties.

Corrin had often found it strange that he only had a single retainer, unlike his other siblings. According to his readings it was customary for a member of the royal family to take at least two retainers, if not more; traditionally one to act as a guard and one for other duties, such as clerical work. He’d considered at various times asking Felicia, Flora or Jakob to act as his second retainer, but Gunter had cautioned him against it when he’d approached him about it. While the maids and butler were proficient combatants, in the end they would always be mere servants. Gunter, however, had been a knight of some renown before he’d been assigned to be Corrin’s guard. He had served King Garon faithfully his entire life, and now spent his twilight years serving the King’s son. The thought was enough to make Corrin smile a little in gratitude. Gunter was cold, but he had always been there. Corrin would never admit it, but sometimes in his youth when he’d tried to picture his father’s face, the only one that came to mind was Gunter’s.

“When was the last time you were in the capital, Gunter?” he asked conversationally as they walked.

The older man glanced over at his liege, clasping his hands neatly behind his back as they walked.

“Quite some time, milord,” he answered. “Since before I was assigned to the Northern Fortress, in fact. It has changed quite a bit in some ways, but in others it has not changed at all.”

“I find it fascinating,” Corrin admitted. “Everything is so bright, despite the gloom. It’s amazing.”

Gunter nodded silently as he followed Corrin. In the distance Elise had stopped to look through the window of a small clothing boutique; judging from the flustered reaction Effie was giving her and the raucous laughter of Arthur the Princess was trying to talk her retainer into updating her wardrobe.

“Do not grow complacent, Prince Corrin,” Gunter suggested. “Even here, in the heart of Nohr, enemies may lurk.”

Corrin chuckled, shaking his head.

“That’s what I have you for, Gunter,” he laughed. “To remind me that every shadow holds an enemy and every pedestrian wants to run a dagger through my chest.”

“You may jest, milord, but one day you’ll be grateful for my lessons,” Gunter said.

“I already am,” the prince said over his shoulder. “But right now, I’m trying to enjoy my time in the city with my sister. So I’m trusting you to watch over me, Gunter.”

Gunter snorted but said nothing, continuing his vigil over the Prince. Corrin grinned, resisting the urge to chuckle. Even if his memories were a jumble he knew that Gunter, like most Nohrians, couldn’t handle a compliment. As he watched a small piece of parchment that had been hanging fell out of Gunter’s pocket, fluttering to the pristine cobblestones beneath their feet. Corrin didn’t hesitate to pick it up, holding it out to its owner. As he did he caught a glimpse of large black circles scribbled on the old paper, with nothing else on it.

“Hey, Gunter you dropped this,” he said. “What, uh… what is it?”

The big knight stopped and turned, brows raising just slightly as he realized what Corrin was holding before he took the paper back.

“Thank you, milord,” he said coolly. “Don't worry yourself over it. It is nothing important. Just a relic from the past.”

Corrin felt a small grin rise to his face at his retainer’s evasive answer. Gunter carefully folded the paper, depositing it back in his pouch before they started walking again.

“A relic... from a past filled with black circles?” Corrin pressed.

“Just an old hobby of mine, milord. Nothing more,” he responded.

The prince nodded, his face mock serious, before he chuckled and broke back out into a grin. As they walked Corrin rested his hands behind his head, elbows splayed like the wings of some giant flightless bird.

“I see... Honestly, I didn't think serious old Gunter would have any strange hobbies.”

Gunter snorted, eying the prince sideways as they walked.

“Even at my age I still hold a few surprises,” he said cryptically.

“It does seem so!” Corrin laughed, dropping his arms.

“Hmmm, now that I think about it, though... I recall some of the fortress residents talking about you behaving oddly before they were reassigned...”

“You were so young then,” Gunter said, almost wistfully. “How do you even remember that?”

“It's one of the few memories I have from my early years,” Corrin said with a sideways glance of his own. “Something about the absurdity of the ‘perfect knight’ having a flaw of any kind must have made it stick, even if just about everything else from back then is a blur. No one would say such things about you now, of course.”

Gunter barked a harsh laugh, his scarred face breaking into a rare grin.

“I never claimed to be a perfect knight, milord,” he chuckled.

“I never said you did,” Corrin shrugged. “But the evidence speaks for itself.”

“You may as well stop trying to butter me up,” the old man warned, still grinning. “I am still not letting you wander around the city alone.”

“Bah, spoilsport,” Corrin pouted.

They walked along in companionable silence for a time, neither having anything else that needed saying at present. Up the street Elise’s laughter had joined Arthur’s as a red-faced Effie tried to look as small as possible in her armor, prompting Corrin to chuckle a little to himself. As he continued to walk something from an alleyway between buildings caught his attention, bringing his progress to a halt.

A young woman, barely more than a child, was seated behind a folding table with a deck of cards spread out atop it. Behind the table Corrin could see that she was dressed much the same way that the other young women of the court had been, but her heavy cloak hid much of her lack of clothing. Her veiled face piqued Corrin’s curiosity, though, and when their eyes met she broke out into a grin, brushing a few stray locks of her long dark chestnut hair from her face. Corrin was startled to see strange dark purple markings marring her otherwise pretty face, markings that danced hypnotically when she smiled and spoke.

“Read your fortune, milord?”

Gunter clapped his heavy hand on Corrin’s shoulder, attempting to steer him away from the alley.

“Come, Lord Corrin, let’s not tarry,” he said, glaring at the fortune teller.

Corrin shook him off, though, overcome with curiosity.

“Yeah, I’ll only be a moment,” he said distractedly.

The fortune teller smiled up at him, gathering up her cards and beginning to shuffle them.

“Well, well,” she said as her deep, wine-colored eyes bored into Corrin’s own. “It’s not every day I get to do a reading for royalty.”

“You know who I am?” Corrin asked cautiously.

He found himself slightly shocked, thinking that surely news of his arrival hadn’t spread so far already? The fortune teller merely laughed, though, the sound bright and refreshing in the darkness of the alley.

“What kind of fortune teller would I be if I couldn’t even see that much about you?” she asked by way of answer.

Corrin’s face grew into a matching grin at her response. Either she was a good fortune-teller, or she was a good con-artist. Either way, he could do with a little entertainment after the previous day’s disaster in front of the Court.  

“Okay then,” he said. “Tell me what you see.”

 The girl nodded once, her thin fingers dexterously gathering up the tarot cards on her table and beginning to shuffle them.

“So then, Lord Corrin,” she said conversationally. “What would you like me to read? Your future? Perhaps you would like a few hints on how best to win the Nohrian court over? Or perhaps… you wish for love advice?”

Corrin laughed. The way she spoke reminded him of the old matron that had run the Northern Fortress before Jakob had taken over. Behind him Gunter hovered warily at the mouth of the alley, alternating between glaring at the fortune teller and glaring at the passing shoppers.

“Maybe just keep it basic,” he suggested.

“Very well,” the girl said with a nod. “The cards will tell me what they wish, anyway. Very rarely do I get to dictate what they say.”

“Oh? Do all fortune tellers give away their secrets like that?” Corrin asked curiously.

The girl glanced up at him, her grin growing a little.

“I feel that I should not lie to you, Lord Corrin,” she said as she placed the deck of cards down and fanned them out.

“Now, seeing as your man appears to be ready to leap in and drag you away at any moment we will keep this simple. Draw five cards. Any five. They will tell me of your future.”

Corrin nodded, stepping forward. At once he felt a distinct charge run up his spine, magic swirling in the alleyway. He had always been strangely sensitive to the currents of mana, Leo had said. Nowhere near as sensitive as the younger Prince himself, which Leo claimed was owing to his direct blood-link back to the great Dragon of Dusk that had founded Nohr, but still much more in tune than a common mage. Fortunately, Gunter was as insensitive to mana as a rock, otherwise he would have sprung into action screaming ‘trap!’ at the top of his lungs. But Corrin felt no malicious intent from the girl’s spell; only curiosity. It was similar to a divination hex that Leo had shown him once a long time ago as an example, but it felt older. More archaic, and infinitely more complex.

His opinion of the girl’s skill rose as he dragged five cards out of the fanned deck and held them back to her. Her grin dropping, she took a deep breath and gathered the undrawn cards up, setting them aside before laying out the five that Corrin had drawn and flipping them over one by one. All at once the spell ceased as he drew the fifth card, the swirl of magical energy disappearing instantly.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Corrin stood, marveling at the intricate, delicate detail in the artwork on the cards and their careworn state. When he looked up, though, the girl’s face was creased with worry.

Or, perhaps it was fear.

“Fascinating,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper as she brushed her fingertips across the tops of the cards. “In all my years I’ve rarely seen a prediction like this, young Lord. I will be honest. It does not bode well. For anyone.”

Corrin nodded once, swallowing.

“I see fear and deceit in your immediate future, Lord Corrin,” she explained. “And violence. So, so much violence and death. Do not trust your eyes and ears, but look to your heart when you are called to make a choice. Yet a hidden enemy strikes at your heart from shadow as you descend into a world unseen, and… the sun will tarnish in the sky as the stars’ lights are extinguished one by one, leaving all creation in true darkness. That is… all I see.”

“That was very… bleak,” Corrin said.

“Indeed,” the girl huffed, her pretty face twisted in a frown. “Usually I am a little more accurate. Strange…”

“Yes, strange indeed,” Gunter growled, slapping a gold coin down on her table. “Now, Lord Corrin, we must go. Your sister is waiting for you.”

The old knight grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him and shoving him towards the mouth of the alley. Corrin knew better than to argue with Gunter when his features were set like this, though, so he let himself be steered away. He did glance over his shoulder long enough to say one last thing, though.

“W-wait, what was your name!?”

The girl glanced up from her table, her face softening as she smiled a little at him.

“It is Nyx, Lord Corrin,” she called out to him. “Remember it. I have no doubt we will be meeting again very soon.”

Gunter huffed, giving her a small glare of his own again before they emerged back into the comparative light of the street where Elise and her retainers were waiting.

*

The chime of bells echoed through the clothing store that Elise had spotted, followed closely by the Nohrian princess herself. Corrin followed with Arthur, Effie and Gunter choosing to wait outside rather than further crowd the cramped boutique.

“And this is where you’ll find the best men’s clothes in Windmire!” Elise declared, spinning with a smile. “Or that’s what I think, anyway. I always like the clothes Leo and Xander get here more than what their tailors make for them.”

Corrin nodded, taking a few more steps into the store as the clerk bowed her head graciously at the Princess’ compliment.

“Y-you honor us and our humble shop, Lady Elise,” the elderly man said without looking up.

“Oh, pish!” she laughed, waving his humility away. “I’m not lying! You really are one of the best!”

Corrin frowned a little at the exchange. All day he’d noticed the majority of the shopkeepers, and even the people on the streets, wouldn’t meet their gazes. It was why he’d let himself be lured in by the fortune-teller girl back in the alleyway, because she was the first one that had met his eyes all day. The Prince had always imagined bustling markets full of crowds, people shouting and haggling as children raced around underfoot, getting in the way and causing mischief as they played, like he had read about in his books back in the Northern Fortress. Instead he had been met by forced, almost frightened greetings, and a sterile approximation of what a shopping district was supposed to be. The shopkeepers usually warmed up a little once they realized it was Elise they were talking to, but they still never lifted their gazes. And Corrin had to admit, it was eerie how quiet the town was, despite it being mid-afternoon.

“I see you have noticed it too, Lord Corrin,” Arthur said, coming up behind the prince.

He started a little, snapping out of his daze as the bigger man grinned down at him.

“Er… is it… normal, then?” he asked hesitantly.

“But of course!” Arthur laughed. “None can remain untouched by the call of… justice!”

As he finished his sentence Arthur reached into a rack of seemingly random clothes and pulled out a navy blue shirt that would have been skin-tight on Corrin, much like the one he himself was wearing. Corrin blanched, plastering a smile on his face as he backed away.

“Oh! That’s what you meant…” he chuckled. “Er… actually, I prefer darker clothes…”

Elise laughed, interposing herself between them.

“I think that would look great on Percy, Arthur!” she said.

Corrin let out a sigh as the blonde axeman’s face lit up, his lopsided grin returning in full-force.

“Of course!” he cried, slapping the heel of his palm to his forehead. “How could I have forgotten my sidekick!? This would be perfect for Percival!”

Elise snorted, snatching the shirt out of Arthur’s hands.

“You know he hates it when you call him that,” she said.

“But it’s his name!” Arthur declared. “A fitting name for a staunch defender of justice!”

“You have… a sidekick?” Corrin asked, confused. “Actually, first of all explain what a sidekick is.”

“A sidekick is-” Arthur started excitedly before Elise cut him off.

“Percy is Arthur’s son,” she explained.

The older man huffed and frowned a little at having his spiel cut off, but once again Corrin was grateful that Elise had come to his rescue.

“Really? I didn’t know you had a son,” he said conversationally, going back to tracking down suitable clothes.

“Indeed!” Arthur said with a deep nod. “He’s a real chip off the old hero-block! He’s just about Lady Elise’s age, and already entered training at the Nohrian Knight Academy! Imagine that! My boy, a knight! Dashing and heroic, isn’t it?”

Elise rolled her eyes, but Corrin grinned.

“I think that’s great, Arthur. Heroic indeed,” he agreed.

The bigger man let out a hearty belly-laugh, making Elise roll her eyes. Corrin didn’t miss, however, the way that the shop clerk winced a little, and tried to make himself seem even smaller than before behind the counter. He grabbed a handful of similar shirts and went up to the old man, smiling pleasantly as he placed them on the counter.

“I’d like these, please.”

“Of course, milord,” the old man said quickly. “A-anything for one of the Princess’ retainers.”

“Actually, he’s my brother!” Elise chimed in, still busy keeping Arthur occupied across the store.

The clerk went paler, beginning to shake as he quickly folded up the shirts and began to wrap them. And as wretched as it made Corrin feel, he had no idea how he was supposed to react.

The awkward tension at the counter was broken, though, when Arthur let out a strangled yelp, followed by a heavy thud as he slipped and fell. Elise sighed as she moved to help him, leaving Corrin to wonder what he had tripped on, rather than dwell on the strange behavior of the city folk in Windmire.

*

Later that afternoon a small smile had returned to Corrin’s face as he trailed along behind the procession of his youngest sister, her retainers and Gunter as they meandered their way back to Castle Krakenburg. Under his arm was a parcel containing new clothing, including a new shirt for Leo. Apparently the salve he’d wiped off of Felicia had left a stain.

His first official day of freedom had been slightly marred by Gunter hovering over him the entire time, but it was to be expected after the stunt he’d pulled the previous evening. Corrin knew he’d have to work hard to gain his father’s trust back, but he wasn’t about to forgo life’s joys to do that.

And that was just what this day had been for him; a joyful experience. He didn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun just doing nothing but wandering around. It was like the time he’d spend exploring the unused sections of the Northern Fortress as a child, except not alone this time. Elise had been bubbly and cheerful all day, and Arthur had done his best to make Corrin feel welcome in the city while Effie had watched on, attentive to Elise and Corrin’s needs.

Corrin had never seen sights like those in Windmire before. He could honestly spend the entire day wandering around the city doing nothing but looking at the buildings and people.

So when they began the slow downward walk towards the gate that would allow them back into Krakenburg, Corrin felt no small sense of melancholy.

His pace slowed a little as he looked around wistfully at the buildings, not realizing he’d stopped until Elise let out a cry and came rushing back to him.

“Corrin! What’s wrong?”

“Hrm? Oh, nothing,” he said quickly, hiding his thoughts with a grin. “It’s just… I’ve never gotten to just wander around like I have today. It was… nice.”

Elise laughed a little, clasping her hands behind her back as she smiled up at her brother.

“I thought you might enjoy getting to spend a little time outside,” she chuckled. “You know, without the fear of falling off a tower.”

“Or being impaled by Gunter,” Corrin added.

“Or being surrounded by those big, grey walls in the courtyard!” Elise went on. “I mean really? Was it too much to ask for some creeping ivy or something, just to add some color?”

Corrin laughed, patting Elise’s head a little.

“Thanks, sis,” he said. “I needed today. I didn’t realize just how much.”

Elise’s smile grew wider still as Corrin stroked her head, but the moment was ruined when Arthur let out an alarmed shout. They both spun, and Elise let out an irritated sigh. Effie and Gunter, as well as a good number of the guards at the gate, were trying to fish Arthur out of one of the deep gutters that sluiced water into the crater when it rained, the large axeman’s laughter echoing up from beneath them.

“Er… is he okay?” Corrin asked as they started to walk towards the group.

“Yeah, this happens all the time,” Elise sighed. “He’s great to have around, but his luck is atrocious.’

Corrin nodded, slowing down a little as they neared the gutter and Elise pushed to the front of the group to help Effie try and pull Arthur up. Corrin hung back, though, not sure what he would do and wanting to stay out of the way. Judging from Arthur’s hearty laughter he was fine, though, so the Prince felt no need to get involved. Gunter, too, gave a heavy sigh and crossed his arms, watching with an almost bored expression on his face, leaving Corrin to move into the shade of one of the nearby guardhouses and…

“Why lord Corrin, how good it is to see you again,” a low voice practically purred behind him.

He jumped, spinning and coming face to face with the mage from the previous day, Shade. She was smiling, her eyes half-lidded as she inched closer to him. He was no stranger to physical contact or closeness; Elise and Camilla had made sure of that. However, the way that Shade did it made him feel uncomfortable for some reason. Again, the feeling of being gazed down by a predator sent shivers up his spine. Her subtle perfume wafted towards him, an intoxicating aroma of flowers and something muskier that made his head spin a little.

“Shade, was it? Hello again,” he said, adopting the arching, uncaring attitude he’d tried to use the previous day.

Shade giggled, gently placing both hands on his shoulders before yanking his taller head down.

“I am touched that you remember my name, milord,” she practically whispered. “But I had heard you were wounded by the king for defying his orders…”

“Y-yes,” Corrin stammered, brushing her hands off. “Healing magic is a wonder.”

“Oh, indeed,” she nodded.

Shade stepped forward again, undeterred as she stopped just short of brushing her chest against him. Corrin gulped and stood his ground nervously, the feeling of discomfort growing but not wanting to lose face by backing down again.

“I heard you tried to show mercy,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Such thoughts are sweet, but wasted on the Hoshidans. Perhaps if you directed them closer to home you might find a woman to be of your liking… Lord Corrin?”

She gave his name a strange, breathy emphasis as she reached one hand up and stroked his face while the other slid around his back and she finally pressed herself up against him. Corrin actually did try to step back this time, his eyes going wide, but Shade’s deceptively thin arms held him in place against her. In fact his squirming just seemed to encourage her more, and she gave a soft giggle.

“Perhaps you would permit me to be that woman, Lord Corr-”

Shade never finished her question, letting out a high-pitched yelp and leaping to the side. Corrin blinked, watching as Elise stomped between them with her ever-present healing staff leveled like a lance at the mage.

“You keep your dirty hands off my brother!” the princess growled.

Of course, given her youthful voice and appearance the threatening tone was lost utterly, but Corrin was grateful for the rescue all the same as he positioned himself behind his sister. In the distance he could hear the gate guards howling with laughter. As he glanced over he could see that Arthur was among them, and even Gunter was trying not to snicker at him, covering his face and pretending to cough as he looked away.

“Princess Elise,” Shade deadpanned. “I beg your pardon, but I was sharing a moment with the Prince-”

“Moment’s over!” Elise practically shouted. “C’mon, Corrin!”

She spun, grabbing the gobsmacked prince by the hand and dragging him back towards the gate. The other guards didn’t so much part as fall to the sides, still holding their stomachs and laughing as Elise dragged Corrin through the gate and back towards the castle.

“What the hell just happened?” Corrin asked.

Elise huffed, not answering and instead just dragging him faster.

“Someone probably should have warned you that the women here are very ‘proactive’ searching for husbands,” Arthur laughed, wiping a tear from his eye.

Corrin blinked uncomprehendingly, stumbling a little as Elise yanked his hand.

“Seduction is an old tradition for the noblewomen looking to marry,” Gunter supplied, clearing his throat and clearly struggling to maintain a straight face.

“Oh. Oh!” Corrin said, comprehension dawning.

Suddenly the warnings Leo and Laslow had given him made sense. He hadn’t thought much of it when Leo had warned him, but in hindsight Laslow’s warning should have triggered alarm bells. He glanced over his shoulder back at the gate, where Shade was watching him forlornly. As their eyes met she winked and blew him a kiss.

“Women are scary,” Corrin muttered, studiously looking forward again.


	4. Chapter 4

That evening Laslow held his sides as he howled with laughter at the story Arthur told him from earlier in the day.

“I warned him!” the steel-haired man laughed. “I warned him to stay away from the noblewomen here!”

He, Arthur and Effie were sitting in Laslow’s quarters, one of the larger rooms in the castle. As the head retainer of the Crown Prince, Laslow was afforded certain luxuries, such as a full apartment suite rather than just a single room, and his attempted promiscuous behavior being overlooked for the most part.

Arthur guffawed along with him while Effie sighed and shook her head.

“You should not mock the Prince like that,” she warned.

“I-I’m not,” Laslow gasped, holding up a calming hand. “I-it’s just… I did the same damn thing!”

With that admission Arthur and Laslow burst into laughter again, holding their stomachs as they rocked back and forth. The trio were sitting in the living area of Laslow’s apartment on the low sofa of rich wine colored red velvet, while Effie was perched on one of the matching chairs next to it, clearly uncomfortable without her armor on judging by her constant fidgeting and glancing around the room.

“Y-yes, I remember her!” Arthur chuckled when they calmed a little. “Th-the one with the ‘heroic’ hips you simply couldn’t stay away from!”

“Boy did I learn fast!” Laslow agreed. “I’ve never run so far and so fast from a mage!”

“S-she almost made you a frog!” Arthur gasped between laughs.

Both men practically exploded with laughter again, leaving Effie to once again roll her eyes and wait for them to calm down. As she waited the door opened, and another figure stepped in. The woman wore a frilled blue dress more at home in a ballroom than a meeting of Nohr’s elite soldiers, but Peri always had been a curious one, even when compared to the other retainers.

“What’s so funny?” Peri asked with a suspicious glance. “Someone die in here?”

Laslow and Arthur both made a valiant effort to stifle their laughter, the peals dying away as the two men wiped tears of mirth from their eyes.

“N-no,” Laslow chuckled at last. “Corrin just had another run-in with Lady Shade earlier today.”

“And no one got hurt?” Peri asked. “Pity.”

She said the last part with a shrug, moving to sit on the long sofa next to Laslow, opposite Arthur. The apartment’s owner rolled his eyes at his partner’s blood-lust, still chuckling along with Lady Elise’s retainer as they relived their first meeting.

A few moments later the door opened again and two more figures stepped in; a man in brightly colored Dark Mage’s robes with short blonde hair striding in boldly and a tanned man with an eyepatch following in a far more subdued fashion. Odin and Niles, Prince Leo’s two retainers.

“What-ho, my comrades!?” Odin practically shouted in greeting, striking his new favorite pose with one hand outstretched before him.

“Give it a rest,” Niles groaned, pushing past the mage.

Odin chuckled a little, undaunted as he flipped his cape back theatrically. Where most Dark Mages would wear black, the color of their creed, Odin had elected to wear a yellow cape edged with blood red over his skintight bodysuit instead. He claimed it made him more dashing, befitting of being the retainer of Nohr’s Second Prince. However, Laslow had known the mage for a long, long time, and knew that he wore yellow every day because it had been his mother’s favorite color.

Niles, however, Laslow hadn’t known that long. The sneaky bowman was a recent addition to the ranks of the royal retainers, and Laslow was still trying to get a feel for the man. The way Odin described him, Niles was apparently a quieter version of him, but more successful with the ladies. And men. Not that Laslow was one to judge; who the other retainer took to his bed was none of his business. He also made no secret of his unsavory past, but he served Prince Leo with the same fervor as any of the other retainers, and that was good enough for him.

Niles cast a bored look around the room with his one good eye, eventually giving a tired sigh and settling on the wide window sill furthest away from everyone else while Odin hurriedly sat on the other chair.

“What-ho, friend Odin!” Arthur declared as the mage crossed the room. “I’m glad to see you hale and hearty, fellow defender of justice!”

Laslow rolled his eyes, praying that the last two retainers would show up soon before either man could get any more worked up.

“You hear about what happened to Corrin today?” Laslow asked, grinning.

A momentary flash of fear crossed his face before he realized that Laslow wouldn’t be smiling about anything ill befalling the Prince, and shook his head expectantly. Laslow indicated to Arthur, letting the older man tell the story again. By the end, all three of them were practically rolling around on the floor. Behind them, even the quiet Niles was stifling chuckles of his own.

“That’s, that’s just like you! You and that one that tried to turn you into a frog when we first arrived!” Odin howled, clutching his sides.

“I know!” Laslow laughed.

All of the retainers present glanced up as the door opened again, the last two of their number entering with a neutral expression and a familiar scowl.

“Gawds!” Selena snapped. “You can hear you three idiots from the end of the hall! And you’re supposed to be retainers to royalty!?”

The redhead crossed the room in three quick strides, Odin hastily jumping up to offer her his seat. Her expression softened a little as she nodded a curt thanks to him, sitting on the chair while the mage perched on the arm of it. Beruka simply took up her habitual position standing next to the door, arms crossed and waiting patiently for them to finish.

“So now we’re all here can we get started, please?” Niles asked from across the room.

“Just wait, we’re not all here yet,” Laslow said placatingly. “Our guest should be along at any moment now…”

The others looked at him with curious glances as he grinned and shrugged innocently. Comprehension dawned on Odin and Selena’s faces just as a knock at the door announced their final member.

“Sir Laslow,” a scarred old Knight, Corrin’s retainer Gunter, greeted as he entered. “I am grateful for the invitation.”

“Of course,” Laslow said, rising to his feet. “And now that we’re all here, we can begin. Why don’t you take a seat, Gunter? This may be a meeting of all the royal retainers, but it’s hardly a formal affair.”

The steel-haired man indicated to the spot he’d just vacated as he inwardly told himself to prepare more seating for their next meeting. Once a month the retainers of the Princes and Princesses gathered to discuss the state of the monarchy and to build a certain level of camaraderie among their number. It had been Laslow’s idea when Prince Xander had first appointed him, more for a reason to maintain more regular contact with his old friends Odin and Selena than anything else, but having all of the retainers working together had proved to be advantageous in the past, especially after his predecessors’ sudden deaths when he’d been forced into the role of Head Retainer.

In recent years Prince Xander and Princess Camilla had been given more and more authority and responsibility in the running of the country as King Garon had grown more and more reclusive. While the oldest siblings took care of the day-to-day running of the kingdom, and Prince Leo almost single-handedly ran the entire Royal Library in Krakenburg, the retainers had been forced to accept more responsibilities of their own, too. Laslow liked to joke that he spent more time working as a clerk these days than a warrior.

Gunter nodded, taking up the space that the younger retainer had just vacated. He looked strange still wearing his heavy armor between Peri’s frilled dress and Arthur’s tight cloth, but that strangeness was almost an everyday occurrence in this room.

“I’ll start by thanking Lord Corrin’s retainer Gunter for joining us for the first time,” Laslow began. “It’s always nice when our numbers grow.”

“Indeed!” Arthur agreed heartily, slapping Gunter on the shoulder.

“I notice Iago decided not to join us again,” Selena huffed.

“He had ‘better things’ to do,” Laslow shrugged.

It was no surprise that King Garon’s retainer and right hand man had declined his invitation; every month Laslow invited the masked man, and every month he declined. Iago had an air of superiority to him, though, that didn’t sit well with the others. Where they were a team, a unit, Iago clearly felt that by serving as the King’s only retainer he was too good for them.

“Now, onto business,” Laslow said, his face falling into a frown. “I’ll state it plain. Things are not good. Arthur has confirmed my suspicions that we have reached a point where the residents of Windmire will not even look at members of the royal family.”

“The people living below ground, in the Catacomb City, speak of rebellion,” Niles added lazily.

“People down there always talk about rebellion,” Selena scoffed.

“But the people in the upper city are beginning to whisper, too,” Laslow said. “First there was the subjugation of the Ice Tribe. Then, the Northern Earth Tribes were practically wiped out. The people are scared. They are sick of fighting. And so are our Lieges.”

Arthur and Effie both nodded in agreement, while Odin frowned and looked at the ground. Peri scoffed, though, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“Oh? And Prince Xander told you this and not me?”

“He hasn’t said anything,” Laslow shrugged. “None of them have. But it’s plain to see.”

“Not everyone is a psychopath like you are,” Selena added bitterly.

“You’re just jealous that I’m stronger than you,” Peri shot back. “And younger and prettier.”

“Why you little bitch-” Selena started, beginning to rise before Odin calmed her with a hand on her shoulder.

“That’s enough,” Laslow sighed. “This isn’t about us. It’s about our lords and our kingdom. It’s clear that the people can’t take much more of this, and as Retainers to the monarchy it falls to us to think of solutions. Niles, you’ve dealt with the less-savory aspects of the Nohrian society. Any ideas?”

The tanned man snorted softly, brushing his white fringe out of his eye before speaking.

“Honestly? None,” he admitted. “The low castes don’t care who sits on the throne. They care about where their next meal is going to come from. Something, I might add, is becoming more and more of a concern for them these days.”

Laslow nodded.

“The people in the slums, too,” Effie added quietly.

“And that’s the problem,” Laslow declared. “The people need to believe in, to love their rulers. Sir Gunter, you are a fresh set of eyes on this problem. Do you have anything worth adding?”

The old man let out a sigh, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his armored knees.

“Give the people food,” he suggested. “Make sure they know it comes from the Princes and Princesses, not the King. No one will believe in good-will from King Garon, but his children…?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Laslow said thoughtfully.

“Conversely, you could send lightly guarded caravans through areas that thieves are known to target,” Gunter went on. “The thieves steal the food, share it with those in the slums. Assuming, of course, that they don’t keep it all for themselves.”

“I know a few that might be persuaded to share,” Niles said slowly, a grin rising to his face. “It might take some… ‘convincing’ but I’m happy to take on the challenge.”

“Where would we even get the food?” Effie asked. “There’s a shortage for a reason.”

“Take it from the nobles,” Selena scoffed. “They throw away more than they eat anyway.”

She finished her statement casting another glare at Peri, who frowned and crossed her arms again but remained silent this time.

“I will speak to Prince Xander,” Laslow said after a moment of contemplation. “For what I’m thinking we won’t have the authority to act alone. But I can’t see him disagreeing with us. What of that issue with the opium dealers?”

“Taken care of,” Beruka declared softly from behind him.

Selena sighed, rolling her eyes before speaking.

“We managed to root out the Nohrian side of the operation, but without tracking it into Hoshidan territory we can’t do anything else.”

“That’s fine,” Laslow said. “As long as things on our end are tied up, we can rest easy for a little while.”

“Yes, until someone else takes over the supply,” Niles muttered darkly.

“Baby steps, Niles!” Arthur said over his shoulder. “This was an act of pure justice! It is something to be proud of!”

“I probably knew people running that opium ring,” Niles sighed.

“What of the slave traders in the north?” Selena asked, trying to move the conversation back along.

“I ran ‘em down,” Peri shrugged, grinning wickedly at the memory. “Bunch of weaklings. Screamed like little girls when I stabbed ‘em.”

“We took care of most of their agents in the slums, too,” Effie added, before another argument could erupt. “Any that are still there won’t be making trouble for a long time.”

“Not with the way we handled things!” Arthur added, puffing up some.

“There’s a scary thought,” Odin muttered under his breath.

“Right, that just leaves the attempted takeover of Lord Penfold’s estates in the south,” Laslow said. “I can take care of that one myself. All I have to do is grease a few palms, spread a few rumors, and Penfold will come crying to Prince Xander in no time.”

“You really took to this Court life better than the rest of us,” Selena deadpanned.

“Aw, you’ll make me blush,” Laslow chuckled. “But, once I take care of that we should be clear for the rest of the month to relax. Thank you, my friends. Now that that’s over with, why don’t we all have some tea?”

*

Laslow gave a tired sigh, sinking into one of his plush chairs after seeing the last of the other retainers out of his apartment. Across from him Odin and Selena shifted, moving closer to each other on his couch.

“None of that, please,” Laslow groaned. “Take it to your own quarters.”

Odin grinned as Selena shot their friend a dirty look, leaning her head against the blonde man’s shoulder and letting out a long, tired sigh.

“Funny,” Selena deadpanned. “It used to be us saying that to you. I’m impressed you’ve finally grown up.”

Laslow snorted a laugh, leaning back and lifting his feet up onto the low coffee table between them.

“Only when you’re around,” he chuckled. “I got sick of being slapped in the back of the head.”

“It was nice when it happened to someone else, though,” Odin sighed. “Odin Dark’s gaze of power still goes blurry sometimes!”

The three of them laughed a little before lapsing into a comfortable silence. It was only at times like these, one evening a month, when the three old friends could relax and let their guards down. Laslow stretched his aching legs by pointing his toes while Odin gave a great yawn. Selena, for her part, pulled a leather cord from her blouse, toying with the two rings hanging off of it.

“So what do you think?” Laslow asked. “Will old man Gunter’s plan work?”

“Can’t see why not,” Odin shrugged, forgoing his usual theatrical speech. “It was a sound plan, as long as Niles carries out his part of it.”

“I’ll talk to Lady Camilla,” Selena added from his shoulder. “I’m sure Beruka still has some contacts in the underworld she can use of she’s ordered to.”

They returned to silence again, Odin trailing his fingers up and down Selena’s arm as she returned the rings to the safety of her blouse and snuggled closer to him, while Laslow simply stared into space.

“How have you been, anyway, Laslow?” Odin asked after a time. “You have seemed tired of late.”

Laslow grinned a little before responding.

“Prince Xander has much work to do,” he said. “And for all of his work, I have to do twice as much. There’s always some noble with some little grievance, or some merchant wanting a royal seal of approval, or… something… It’s exhausting.”

“So is the Nohrian Court,” Selena groaned. “Why Lady Camilla puts up with so much of their grief I’ll never know.”

“At least the Library is quiet,” Odin chuckled a little.

“Yes, you did get the best out of the three of us,” Laslow chuckled.

“It wouldn’t hurt to help your friends every now and then,” Selena grumbled.

Odin shrugged innocently, trying not to grin.

Selena let out a tired groan, almost more of a growl, as she turned her face into Odin’s chest.

“All of this nobility garbage is almost making me pine for the old days,” she admitted.

“Agreed,” Laslow sighed. “Although I don’t miss the whole ‘desperate fight for survival’ part, the ‘no court politics’ part was ideal’.”

“Perhaps we’re just getting old,” Odin sighed. “I’d like to see home again, honestly. It’s been so long.”

Selena slapped him on the chest with the back of her hand as she rose up to glare at him.

“We’re not old,” she said, her tone low and threatening.

“Yes dear, sorry dear,” Odin said quickly.

Laslow chuckled again as Selena returned to her earlier position and Odin let out a subtle relieved breath. Even with two of her oldest friends she was still… her.

“It would be nice to see home again,” Laslow agreed, his hand dropping to finger the gold chain on his hip, a memento of his mother.

“We’ve got a job to do here first, though,” he added with a grin. “So which one of us is going to volunteer to keep Lord Corrin away from the ladies?”

“Don’t you mean keep them away from him?” Selena scoffed.

“I think we could all use a little of that,” Odin shuddered. “The women here scare me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the scary ladies,” Selena said, a note of laughter in her voice.

“Very well,” Laslow sighed theatrically. “I suppose it must fall to me to occupy the minds of all of the ladies of Nohr to protect Lord Corrin. It is a weighty task, but one I humbly accept.”

“You’ll get turned into a frog again,” Selena warned.

There was a moment of silence before the three old friends burst into laughter, rocking back and forth in their seats as they let the stress of the day fade into the night with the sound of their hysterics.

*

Later that evening Corrin lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling as he relayed the events of earlier that day. It had been a fun day, his first day outside the Northern Fortress, and spending it with Elise had been perfect. But something was still nagging at him. Something about the way that the people of Windmire had acted around the royals was bothering him.

With a sigh he sat up, the sheets falling off of him as he ran a hand over his face.

He needed to talk to someone about this. But not Felicia or Gunter. He needed to talk to someone familiar with the problem. Leo, or Xander would probably be best. Even though it was late his brothers would probably still be awake; he did recall hearing Niles once complaining that the younger Prince hardly ever slept.

As he waited for his bleary mind to clear his fingers brushed against the small note that had been waiting tucked beneath his pillow, a smile rising unbidden to his face. It was nice to find one waiting for him, rather than being handed over by a sweaty courier that reeked of wyvern. Of course, sometimes that courier was also Beruka, which had usually been a nice surprise for him getting to see a friendly, if slightly stoic, face back at the Northern Fortress.

Perhaps Camilla could settle his thoughts, too, though.

Stifling a yawn Corrin rose, groping in the darkness for his shirt and pulling it on over his head before shuffling into the main room of his apartment and out towards the staircase in the main hall, being careful not to wake Gunter or Felicia. Tromping up the winding stairs, the Prince let out another wide yawn. He was tired, but still he couldn’t sleep. He wanted to understand the behavior of the Nohrian people today, and he wouldn’t be able to turn his brain off to sleep until he did.

He came out onto the next floor of the tower his apartment was in, looking around groggily as he tried to get his bearings. Leo and Camilla both had rooms on the floor above him, apparently, but he couldn’t remember whose was whose. With a shrug Corrin decided to just leave it to fate, and took the first door on the left. He knew that both of these apartments were his siblings’, so it wasn’t like he was about to walk in on some visiting nobles or anything.

The thought of having any more contact with the local nobility that day sent a shudder up his spine, anyway.

He stepped into a dimly lit apartment, similar to his own in shape and decoration, but with a different scent. Where his own smelled faintly of dust from not being used, this apartment had an underlying smell of lilac and other flowers and herbs, as well as the familiar scent of wyvern. Camilla’s rooms, then.

Across the central living area a light was shining from one of the rooms, flickering as Corrin closed the doors behind him.

“Who’s there?” his sister called, her voice cold.

“Just me, sister,” Corrin called back, taking a few further steps into the space.

Corrin didn’t miss the surprised gasp, and the sounds of hurried dressing as he waited.

“Sorry to bother you so late,” he added.

“No, it’s no bother!” Camilla said, walking quickly into the living area. “My poor, darling Corrin! Were you having trouble sleeping? Would you like me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Yes, I couldn’t sleep, but no, I don’t need you to sing to me,” Corrin sighed.

Camilla smiled as she slowed, regaining her composure now. She’d obviously been rushing to meet Corrin, if the big smile and the way she was tying her silken black robe closed for modesty over a familiar dark nightgown was any indication. Usually Camilla was more composed than this, though.

“If you’re busy I can come back,” he offered.

“No, no,” she said quickly. “It is almost done anyway. Why don’t you come through and we can talk while I put the finishing touches on it?”

Corrin nodded, following her beckoning hand into the room that the light was flickering in; a single oil lamp sitting atop a desk crowded with piles of fabric and threads, fluttering in the breeze from the window left open a crack to cool the room.

As Camilla took up her seat at the table and resumed her work on whatever garment she was currently making again Corrin glanced around, realizing with a start that he was in her bedchambers. A massive bed rested against one wall, its four poster frame draped with elegant curtains and its sheets still rumpled from Camilla’s apparent failed attempts at sleeping. The center of the space had another set of low sofas arranged around a small table, a vase of colorful flowers from Elise’s gardens arranged atop it. Across from the bed a large set of double doors led into a walk-in closet, darkened now but Corrin could imagine the fine dresses and the like concealed within. When she visited Camilla usually wore her armor and the plainclothes beneath it; she said it was more comfortable that way.

“You know I just realized that I’ve never seen you in a formal dress,” he said idly.

Camilla glanced up, her face momentarily going blank before her smile returned.

“I can try some on for you if you’d like?” she offered.

Corrin scoffed, crossing his arms and sinking to a hip.

“Maybe another time.”

Camilla gave a small chuckle, indicating with the tip of her needle to the small stool sitting near the lounges and table in the center of the room.

“Will you pull that over and take a seat, darling? You’re making me anxious.”

Corrin smirked, doing as he was told and perching on the stool as his sister went about her work.

“I got your message, too, by the way,” he added, looking up at her now. “I can tell when you’ve had a busy day when they’re not as poetic as usual.”

Camilla gave a tired smile as she continued her sewing, her hands making deft and sure movements as she spoke.

“I had a busy day,” she said. “There is an important ball coming up for the Nohrian nobility, and father has left me to organize it. There is much to do to ensure that there is no slight to any of the attending guests. I must ensure that the food and entertainment is equally acquired from all of our territories so that no one is favored above the others, I must ensure that the wine is up to the highest standard, and I still must prepare a dress for myself. Gods forbid that the first princess of Nohr be seen twice in the same dress.”

She gave a small, rueful chuckle with the last part of her statement, but Corrin could sense the fatigue dripping off her words.

“Plus,” she added, quirking her head a little as she continued to sew. “I had to meet with another suitor today; a man from one of the noble families in the southlands. A pretentious fop of a man, but his family makes the wine that Father likes, so I had to entertain them.”

Corrin’s face twisted into a frown unbidden, and Camilla glanced up and laughed.

“Relax, darling,” she soothed. “As soon as the proper amount of time has passed so I do not insult them I will reject his proposal, just like all the others. It is just exhausting having to waste my time constantly fending them off.”

“Why not just reject their proposals without meeting them, then?” he asked.

“It would shame them to be rejected outright,” Camilla explained softly. “This nation is in a precarious enough situation without us alienating our allies in the nobility. Being a Princess is… hard. Full of social pitfalls and traps that one would never see coming that can be damaging to the entire nation for years. I have done my best to spare Elise the pain of this life, so she can continue to be the free spirit we love so much. But if I get one more suitor asking when she will be of age I will not hesitate to feed them to Marzia.”

Corrin grinned at the thought of the wyvern being tossed tiny noblemen like they were snacks, relaxing his shoulders a little.

“I really don’t know what we’d do without you, Camilla,” he said truthfully. “I know Elise and the others feel the same way. I don’t even remember my own mother, but I truly hope she has the same love in her heart that you do.”

Camilla’s needle froze as she barked out a laugh, unusually harsh for his gentle older sister.

“Corrin, you know that the love in my heart is love purely for you and our siblings,” she said, raising a sad smile in his direction. “I give all my love to you, and Elise and Leo and Xander, and yet I keep none for myself.”

“Then I guess you’re lucky we all love you just as much as you love us,” Corrin shrugged. “Come on now, what’s with all this sad talk? I came here so you’d cheer me up!”

Camilla chuckled again, returning to her needlework.

“You mentioned mothers,” she said in a soft voice.

“Ah, right,” Corrin sighed, running a hand down his face. “Forgive me. I’m tired and not thinking.”

It was no secret to him that Camilla and her mother had not been on the best of terms before she had died. In fact, near as Corrin could tell none of his siblings had ever been particularly close to their mothers.

“No, it is no fault of your own,” Camilla said, waving his apology away. “In fact I’m touched by your praise. It is just… Do you remember when we met?”

Corrin nodded, frowning and trying to recall the memory. It had been quite some time ago, and his strange pseudo-amnesia had rendered one of the happiest days in his life hazy, but he still remembered the warm embrace that the teenaged Camilla had given him, and the smile she gave him as she held him to her breast.

“That day I felt something inside of me,” she explained. “Not love, but hate. Hate for our parents that could leave you, a mere child, alone like that. Abandoned, until your usefulness as a pawn or a hostage would present itself. That day I rid myself of my mother’s lingering influence and swore myself to you, and to our dear sister Elise. I would give you all the love you had been denied.”

Corrin grinned, sighing a little as he rose to his feet. Camilla glanced up as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her head into his chest for a change and resting his chin atop her silken hair.

“If nothing else, I’ve never felt unloved,” Corrin admitted.

Camilla sighed, letting her brother hold her for a time before she spoke again.

“You know, Father never hugged me,” she said. “Even as a child. He spent time with Elise and Leo, but I was too close in age to Xander. We are, all of us, children of mistresses, but could still compete for the throne. All of us except Xander, whose sole right it is to succeed Father. I think that he feared I would take steps to secure the throne myself.”

“You’ve never even talked about wanting it,” Corrin scoffed. “Leo I know has contingency plans if something were to happen to you or Xander, and Elise has talked about wanting to bring joy and laughter to our nation, but you…”

“These things don’t matter in the court,” Camilla sighed into Corrin’s chest. “I was a risk to Xander’s claim to the throne. So mother took me away for my own protection. Which was why I had to leave you alone for so long. Our countrymen can be… rather cold, at times.”

“Yeah, I… noticed that,” Corrin sighed, stepping back.

Camilla glanced up at him now, concern writ on her beautiful features as she waited for him to continue.

“Did something happen today?” she asked.

“You mean besides me being assaulted by that mage that guards the gate?” Corrin snickered, before growing serious again. “I just… this isn’t the Nohr I expected. Where are the happy people going about their business, smiles on their faces as everyone works together for our homeland? When I went out with Elise today it was so quiet, so sterile; nobody would even meet our eyes.”

Camilla let out a breath through her nose, finally setting down her needle and what she was working on.

“Things are… complicated in Nohr at the moment,” she said slowly. “Your arrival in Windmire, as well as our behavior yesterday in front of the court, have made things even more-so.”

“The way that you all described it to me I was expecting something…”

Corrin struggled for a moment to find the right word before sighing and falling back onto the small stool, looking down at the ground between his feet.

“I thought it would be better,” he admitted softly. “But it’s no different than being back at the Northern Fortress.”

“Give it time,” Camilla offered. “Nohr can take… a little bit of warming to. But once you do, you’ll see the same beauty and strength in our homeland that the rest of us do. It’s why we fight so hard for it, after all.”

“Alright,” Corrin said after a moment. “Alright. If you say so, I’ll give it a chance.”

“That is all I can ask,” Camilla said, rising to her feet. “Now it has gotten quite late. What’s say we climb into bed and snuggle, like we used to?”

“Camilla, I am not a child anymore,” Corrin sighed.

“Oh pish posh,” she laughed. “Come now. Sleep with your older sister.”

“No!” Corrin laughed, pushing himself to his own feet. “Can you imagine if Leo or Elise found out? I’d never hear the end of it! I’ll sleep in my own room.”

“But I get so cold at night!” Camilla pleaded, pouting and looking upwards at Corrin.

“So snuggle with Marzia,” Corrin laughed, making for the exit. “Goodnight, sister. And… thank you.”

“Corrin, wait a moment, please.”

He turned, preparing to fend off more of her requests for snuggling. Instead he found himself shrinking back from her ‘wrathful smile’, as Elise liked to call it. The smile she got that didn’t reach her eyes that promised of impending doom.

“Would you care to enlighten me about what Shade did today, darling?” Camilla asked, her voice tinged with dangerous laughter.

Corrin felt the blood drain from his face. Out of all of his siblings, sometimes he forgot that Camilla could be the scariest.

*

The next morning Corrin was awakened quite early by Gunter, who was already dressed in his full plate armor as if he had slept in it. Gunter had been passed off orders by King Garon’s retainer to summon Corrin, despite the early hour. It was with a feeling of impending dread that Corrin pulled his armor on and strapped Ganglari to his hip, the weight of the blade seeming to pull him down as he was led not to his Father’s throne room, but the King’s quarters instead.

Garon’s quarters were unlike any other part of the palace Corrin had seen so far. He had been surprised by the level of luxury in his own apartment, but his Father’s again was a step above. His booted feet sunk into rich carpets along the corridors, and every few meters detailed paintings depicting the history of Nohr and its conquests were spaced, bordered in gold frilled frames the likes of which he had never even conceived could exist before. Light filtered in through tall, evenly placed windows, the panes occupied by delicate-looking frosted glass.

Gunter was silent as he and Corrin were led by the masked retainer Iago through a series of reception rooms and opulently decorated corridors, up numerous flights of stairs and past dozens of smaller rooms until they came into a small courtyard atop one of the higher towers where Garon was waiting for them in his armor, his heavy cape nowhere in sight.

The King of Nohr glanced up, his heavy lidded and dark ringed eyes narrowing slightly when he caught sight of Gunter before moving to focus on Corrin. The young Prince snapped to attention, preparing himself for the worst.

“Corrin,” Garon nodded. “We should… talk. Yes. It has been quite some time, boy. Come. Talk with your father.”

Corrin nodded, stepping forward hesitantly.

“You went with Elise around the capital yesterday, yes?” Garon asked. “What did you think?”

The younger man hesitated for a moment, surprised at the mundanity of making small talk, something he didn’t think his Father would bother with given the way he presented himself.

“It was… very beautiful,” Corrin said slowly.

“Yes, beautiful like a wasp’s nest,” Garon snorted. “This city is full of ingrates that don’t understand the tough choices that must be made as a King. You must rule with an iron fist, boy. Remember that.”

He was shocked by the tone his father spoke in. Rather than the powerful, infallible King he had always presented himself as Garon was speaking as a man; his voice was soft, and tired. That, and the far-away look in his eyes gave Corrin pause at that moment.

“Y-yes, Father,” Corrin said, directing his gaze at the floor.

He had been prepared to ask questions. To demand answers. Why was Nohr so cold? Why not show mercy? Why were all the citizens so afraid of them?

Instead he couldn’t find his voice. Not in the face of the tired, sagging man with seemingly the weight of an entire nation resting on his shoulders.

“You train every day, yes?” Garon asked after a moment, puffing himself back up a little.

“Yes, Father,” Corrin answered immediately. “I train every day so I might protect our home.”

“Good, good,” Garon nodded, looking away. “Have you trained yet today?”

“N-no, not yet,” Corrin admitted.

“Then draw your sword.”

“F-father?” Corrin asked, confusion tinging his voice.

Garon turned, a heavy, double-headed axe resting in one hand as if it weighed nothing. Gone once more was the tired, human-seeming man, and returned was the unflinchingly cold monarch.

“I said draw, boy,” Garon repeated, his tone colder now. “Unless you’re afraid to spar with an old man?”

“O-of course not, Father!” Corrin said, drawing Ganglari and holding it ready. “I’d be… honored to have you as my training partner.”

A sense of dread settled over Corrin as his father smiled coldly, turning now to face him properly. Clearly he was about to be punished for his behavior and his unwillingness to follow orders and kill the Hoshidans. All he could do was defend himself, though, and hope that his Father didn’t kill him.

Corrin barely had a moment to prepare himself before his Father bellowed a war cry and lifted the giant axe, still with a single hand, bringing it down atop the Prince. He dodged to the side, the pavers on the training ground shattering as the heavy axe left a small crater in its wake.

“Good,” Garon grunted. “Quick on your feet, just like Xander said.”

“In truth I wanted to speak to you, too, Father,” Corrin said.

Before continuing he darted in, raining blows on the older man without holding back. Garon barely noticed, flicking the heavy axe up and catching each blow on the flat of the weapon.

Despite being old, the King was still clearly a fearsome warrior.

As Corrin stepped back he felt his chances of so much as wounding the older man grow slimmer and slimmer.

The King’s expression didn’t change from his perpetual frown as he began to swing his axe around in wide arcs, forcing Corrin back with the strength of his blows.

“I want you to understand how you shamed me, boy,” Garon grunted.

“It – was – wrong!” Corrin managed to gasp out between dodging and blocking.

“I am the King!” Garon thundered. “I decide what is right and wrong!”

He paused, then, allowing Corrin to backpedal and open more space between them as his bearded face split into a sneer.

“You think you served justice by trying to defend them?” Garon spat. “The man was stealing state secrets to aid Hoshido in invading! The woman killed ten men at the border!”

Corrin froze, Ganglari dropping slightly in his grip.

“I… didn’t know…” he admitted.

“Exactly!” Garon snarled, throwing himself forward again.

Corrin desperately tried to defend himself, barely managing to parry the savage blows being rained down on him.

“But still you had to play hero!” Garon continued as he attacked. “You have no idea! None! I brought you here to learn of our home! And until you do, you will keep your mouth shut!”

Corrin cried out as Garon’s free hand lashed out and the King’s fist crashed into his lightly armored stomach. The Prince crumpled, and with another grunt Garon brought his axe up above his head, preparing to deal an overhead strike that would probably cleave Corrin in two.

“Father!”

Both men looked up at the angry shout as hurried footsteps crossed the training ground.

Xander roughly pulled Corrin up as Garon slowly lowered his weapon.

“He will not learn if you kill him,” the older Prince said levelly.

Garon glared at them for a moment before letting out a breath and turning away. With a lazy throw he tossed his weapon off to one side and began to walk away.

“In one hour be in the throne room,” the King said without turning. “I will pass my judgement then. Iago! Attend me!”

Corrin nodded, not missing how Xander sagged and let out a sigh when Garon left. As soon as they were alone Corrin crumpled again, his bruised core unable to support him.

“Come, brother,” Xander sighed. “Let’s go wake Elise.”


	5. Chapter 5

The familiar wispy flow of healing magic permeated the room as Elise held her staff above a prone Corrin’s ribs, slowly passing it back and forth a few inches above his torso.

One punch and three broken ribs. Through a plate of armor. Three broken ribs from one punch. That was what Garon had done to him during their ‘training session’. Corrin could scarcely believe his Father’s strength. A shudder passed through him as he imagined the King in his prime.

“How does it feel?” Elise asked as she worked.

Corrin winced before he could reply, the magic forcing one of the broken bones back into place inside his chest with a sickening grinding sensation.

“Unpleasant,” Corrin admitted through clenched teeth.

Xander had been called away by an exhausted-looking Laslow almost the second they had arrived in Elise’s quarters, the steel-haired retainer giving Corrin a sympathetic grin before they had disappeared. Elise had frowned, but hadn’t panicked at the sight of her brother hunched over and supporting himself on their oldest sibling’s shoulder. Apparently she’d seen battle before, and the thought made Corrin surprisingly uncomfortable.

Elise let out a breath, leaning back with a wide smile as she set her staff aside.

“There!” she said triumphantly. “All done! Try sitting up, tell me if there’s any pain.”

Corrin slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, holding his ribs with one hand and letting out an involuntary gasp. As always, there was lingering pain from the healing process as his body struggled to realize that it wasn’t injured anymore.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes, there’s still pain’,” Elise giggled. “Hold on, I’ll get some herbs…”

“Forget it, I’m fine,” Corrin sighed, waving her down.

He didn’t need painkillers. Instead the Prince held up his chest plate, frowning at the fist-sized dent in it. How he would have it mended without Jakob around to do it Corrin wasn’t sure. Perhaps one of his siblings knew of a decent blacksmith; in a militaristic nation like Nohr there had to be more than a few.

His question was answered immediately, though, when Elise snatched the plate from his hands, setting it down to one side next to her staff.

“I’ll have Arthur mend it right away,” she promised. “He may be unlucky and clumsy, but he’s good with jobs like that.”

“So long as he doesn’t set the castle on fire,” Corrin muttered beneath his breath.

Judging from the way Elise burst into laughter she’d heard him, too. He grinned sheepishly, shaking his head as his sister smiled up at him. She always had a way of cheering him up. She’d even tactfully chosen not to ask about his injuries. Camilla was right; she really was everything this country needed.

“Why don’t you take off the rest of your armor?” she suggested. “You look funny with just the gauntlets and pauldrons.”

Corrin nodded, beginning to undo the clasps. He’d be able to pick the armor up again later, if he even needed it after his father’s judgement. Shaking his head, Corrin decided to focus on the present and try and maintain a light mood for his sister.

“’Pauldrons’?” Corrin repeated. “What happened to ‘shoulder thingies’?”

“I do pay attention when the rest of you talk, you know,” Elise huffed. “Just because I don’t wear armor doesn’t mean I don’t know what it is.”

Corrin barked out a laugh as the shining steel plates clattered to the ground near their feet. Elise’s quarters were furnished much like the rest of the apartments of the Royal heirs; except unlike her siblings’ rooms, Elise’s was… in a word, ‘pink’. Where his own room sported tones of black and grey, and Camilla had chosen deep, burgundy red for much of her own, Elise’s was bright, pastel pink. Her curtains, her chairs and sofas, even the throw rugs on the floor. Frilled doilies adorned most of the surfaces, although the militaristic nature of Nohr was still on display with the spellbooks and healing staves lying in various piles around the room. It was a teenage girl’s room, through and through, and it suited Elise to a tee.

The teenage princess in question frowned and bent to pick up the ragged cape that was still attached to one of his pauldrons, running the frayed and torn material between her fingers while Corrin knelt to undo the clasps on his greaves.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, letting the cape fall back to the ground. “It’s just that this cape is getting a little beat up.”

“I like my cape, thank you,” Corrin laughed. “You and Camilla gave it to me for my birthday!”

“Yeah, that was three years ago!” Elise pointed out.

Corrin froze for a moment before shrugging. Part of his pseudo-amnesia was the occasional loss of the sense of time having passed; to him it still felt like they had given him the cape only yesterday, yet breakfast that morning felt like an eternity ago. It had long ago ceased to be frustrating and had just become another facet of his life.

“It’s precious to me,” he admitted. “I’ll wear it until it falls off of me. Because you gave it to me.”

Elise’s frown melted into another radiant smile as she threw herself at her brother with a great hug, Corrin swaying dangerously and almost losing his balance in his awkward kneeling position.

“Oh!” She said, reeling back suddenly. “Come on, we shouldn’t keep father waiting!”

Corrin let out a groan as he stood, massaging his ribs.

“Gods I hope he doesn’t hit me again,” he muttered. “Without the armor I don’t think I’ll get away with just a few broken ribs this time…”

Elise froze, already halfway out the door, before spinning on her heel and rushing back past him into the room.

“I’ll bring my staff,” she offered.

*

As Corrin approached the impossibly tall doors leading into his father’s throne room he slowed, looking up at the massive wooden monoliths with a growing sense of apprehension.

However, he told himself, this was the price he paid for his ideals. It would have been wrong to strike down the Hoshidans. That’s what he believed. And if doing the right thing meant he disobey his father’s orders and be punished, then he would take his punishment with his back straight and proud and his head high.

After, of course, a few moments to compose and mentally prepare himself.

Elise interrupted his thoughts as she stepped up beside him, giving him a confident nod as she held her staff before her chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you every step of the way,” she assured him. “This is our father we’re talking about. He’ll forgive you. I know he will.”

“Thanks, sis,” Corrin sighed, patting her head a little. “I hope you’re right.”

Taking a deep breath Corrin stepped forward, placing the palms of his hands one on either door and preparing to shove them inwards, only to be brought up short at the sound of harsh laughter from within. He traded confused glances with Elise before deciding to call out.

“Father?” he called through the door.

There was more laughter from within, followed by some incoherent voices, at least two distinct speakers but Corrin couldn’t make out what was being said. Corrin and Elise traded another glance before the Princess shrugged.

“It… sounds like he’s with somebody,” she said. “Maybe we should come back?”

Corrin shook his head.

“No,” he said. “He ordered me to come straight away. He wouldn’t-”

“Who’s there!?”

They both jumped at the abrupt shout from within, Corrin taking one last deep breath before pushing the doors open.

“I’m here, Father, as you ordered,” Corrin declared, striding into the room.

“Sorry if this isn’t a good time,” Elise added, following in his shadow.

Garon glanced up from his seated position sprawled out on the throne, the rest of the cavernous throne room deserted. Corrin and Elise’s boots echoed around the space, the Prince subtly looking for the person their father had been speaking to. The King was alone, but it wouldn’t be hard for someone to disappear from the room; Corrin had seen his father’s Retainer Iago appear and disappear through half-concealed doors a few times since arriving, so he put it out of his mind. Once he stood before the throne’s dais Corrin sunk to one knee, looking down.

“Father, I’ve come to apologize,” he said heavily. “I acted without thinking. I don’t think what I did was wrong, but the way I went about it certainly was. I beg your forgiveness for my rash and irresponsible conduct unbefitting a Prince of Nohr.”

Garon snorted, and Corrin heard the sounds of the King shifting on his throne.

“You disobeyed a direct order from me, boy,” the King growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Ordinarily you would already be dead.”

“I understand, Father,” Corrin said woodenly.

“No, Father please-“ Elise started.

“Silence!” Garon bellowed.

The Princess flinched, doing her best to hide behind her staff as she quivered in the face of her father’s inconsistent temperament. After a moment of glaring at her he relaxed, leaning back into his throne and turning his tired gaze back onto the kneeling Corrin as he stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“You should be dead. But…” the King continued. “You are young. And foolish. And know nothing of our homeland. So I will be lenient. Until you can learn some respect. As my child I will grant you some… leeway. I have something in mind for you. A mission.”

Corrin’s head snapped up at his Father’s words, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“If you complete this quest successfully I will grant you a full pardon for your crimes,” Garon concluded.

“Of course, Father!” Corrin said quickly. “Anything! Anything for the sake of Nohr! What would you have me do?”

Garon’s lined face twisted into an ugly grin, but all Corrin could see was a chance to atone. He didn’t even see the way Elise shrunk back from their father’s cruel smile.

“There is an old fort,” the King explained. “Perched on the Hoshidan border. You are to travel there and discover if the building remains serviceable. No battle will be necessary. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Father!” Corrin said, lowering his gaze again. “It will be done!”

Garon grunted again, resting his jaw on one armored fist, the same one that had broken Corrin’s ribs.

“I will not tolerate failure a second time, boy,” Garon spat. “Do not shame me further. You will leave at first light. I will prepare a… guide for your journey. Now go. Begone.”

*

After leaving their father’s throne room Corrin and Elise headed straight for one of the dining rooms in the Krakenburg’s western tower, where the Princes and Princesses often took lunch together when their busy schedules permitted. The descent back down to the bridge and ascent to the dining room itself Corrin had a massive grin on his face. He was being given a second chance! Not just that, he was getting exactly what he had always wanted; he was getting to serve Nohr, just like his brothers and sisters. Admittedly, he was a little disappointed that there would be no chance for him to display his martial prowess on this mission, but he supposed that a simple reconnaissance mission was all he could be trusted with after his outburst the other day.

The entire walk Elise was ecstatic, laughing and carrying on excitedly now that Corrin was basically officially pardoned.

“I can’t believe that went so well!” she laughed. “Oh, this is perfect! All you have to do is go and see one drafty old fort and then we can spend time together all the time! I’ll help you get settled into the palace, I’ll show you around the rest of Nohr, we’ll have tea! And the chef here makes the best crumpets in the world!”

Corrin couldn’t help but laugh along with her exuberance.

“I’m being serious!” Elise pouted.

“I know, I know!” Corrin chuckled.

“We’ve all been looking forward to this forever!” she continued. “I know that the others are just as excited as me. Xander and Leo just have… trouble expressing themselves. Camilla says it’s a boy thing.”

“That a fact?” Corrin snickered.

“Yeah!” Elise cheered, smiling happily. “But for some weird reason you’re not like that. Maybe it’s because you lived away from the Court for so long?”

Corrin scoffed, grinning down at his sister. “If it means I didn’t grow up a grump like those two then I guess the Northern Fortress wasn’t all bad. Can you imagine if I was as surly as our brothers?”

“A grumpy Corrin…” Elise muttered, slowing as she feigned serious thought.

After a moment she snorted, bursting out laughing.

“I just can’t see it!”

They shared a laugh, Elise’s pace slowing again as they approached the dining room. She swept the doors aside, practically dancing through them as Corrin followed in a more subdued manner, the smile on his face only growing when he spotted his siblings.

They were sitting at a rather small table, all things considered, a simple dark wooden affair with a glossy coat of varnish. The room itself was tastefully decorated, a single painting of victorious Nohrian soldiers hanging over the fireplace on the far wall next to a door likely leading to the kitchens. The other walls themselves were bare, but on the outer one a great arched window allowed the meagre light of the Nohrian noon sun to filter into the room with a cool breeze. A bowl of fresh fruits and a tray of small cakes sat on the table, appetizers before lunch that looked to have been hardly touched.

Laslow was there, too, leaning over Xander’s shoulder and discussing something about a sheaf of papers resting on the table before them in hushed whispers. Leo was reading, while Camilla’s hands danced back and forth as she sewed the same garment that Corrin had interrupted her working on the previous evening. They all looked up, Laslow bowing respectfully before retreating from the room. As he passed he gave Corrin a sly wink and a grin, unseen by the others, and the Prince returned the grin before the steel-haired retainer closed the door behind him.

“How’d it go?” Leo asked without looking up from his reading. “You look whole, so I’ll assume that means it went well.”

“I have a mission,” Corrin began excitedly. “Father’s given me an important scouting mission. I’m to leave tomorrow and investigate a fort on the border for the army.”

Xander frowned, resting his chin on his fist the same way their father often did.

“Are you sure you will be okay? You have yet to truly get a feel for the countryside,” the Crown Prince pointed out.

“Father is preparing a guide,” Elise chirped.

The youngest member of their family perched on a chair next to Camilla, the older Princess smiling and stroking her sister’s cheek affectionately before going back to her work. Elise took a small cake from the tray as Camilla glanced up again, tying off the thread she was sewing with without even looking as she cast a concerned look at Corrin.

“Darling, are you sure you’re going to be okay out there?” she asked. “I don’t like this…”

“Of course!” Corrin assured her. “It’s just an old fort. Father said he’d prepare a guide for me, and you know Gunter isn’t about to let me out of his sight.”

Elise and Xander both chuckled a little, but Camilla didn’t seem convinced. Leo sighed, closing his book and glancing up at last.

“You’re acting rather casual about this, Corrin,” he said. “It isn’t like Father to be so forgiving.”

Corrin shrugged, but before he could speak Elise piped up, crumbs spraying out of her mouth as she tried to eat the cake and talk at the same time.

“That’s enough, Leo! Don’t be such a spoil-sport all the time! Sheesh,” she said, before swallowing. “Stop trying to scare Corrin before his first mission.”

“He should be scared,” Leo deadpanned.

“Everything will work out,” Xander said judiciously.

“Indeed,” Camilla agreed with a clap. “Especially if I go along to make sure, hrm? That way I- I mean we will know that Corrin will be safe.”

All four of the others opened their mouths to protest, but before they could get out much more than a syllable the doors to the dining room opened again.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Princess,” Iago said, striding into the room.

Corrin watched as the older three of his siblings’ faces all became carefully neutral masks, but Elise didn’t even try to hide her dislike of their father’s retainer.

“Eavesdropping, Iago?” Xander asked pointedly.

“Hardly, milord,” the masked man scoffed. “You were all speaking… very loudly. All I had to do was walk by.”

“You were just conveniently walking by our private dining room?” Leo asked neutrally.

“I was coming to relay your father’s orders,” the retainer purred. “Prince Corrin is to undergo this trial without any assistance.”

There was a moment of silence as this news sunk in.

“What is the meaning of this, Iago?” Camilla asked hotly, her façade slipping.

“King Garon intends this as a test of sorts,” the thin man explained patiently. “As his Retainer I have been entrusted with coordinating this mission for the young Prince. He wishes to know if Lord Corrin is indeed worthy of being a Prince of Nohr. He is part of the royal lineage, after all. Therefore your assistance would simply muddy the results.”

“If you think I will simply sit here on my hands while-” Camilla began, before Corrin cut her off.

“Understood,” he said, quelling his sister’s ire with a glance. “If Father wishes to test me he will not find me wanting. I’m sorry, Camilla, but I hope you understand. I have to do this alone.”

The Princess wilted a little, deflating and looking at the piece of fabric resting in her hands before giving a terse nod.

“Not all alone,” Iago corrected with a smirk. “I am having your guide brought here as we speak. He will meet you at the Great Bridge tomorrow at dawn. Do try not to be late.”

With that the lanky Retainer turned and left in a swish of his opulent robes, leaving the siblings sitting in silence, each lost in their own ruminations. Camilla was the first to break it, giving voice to everyone’s thoughts.

“I detest that man,” she sighed eventually.

Elise nodded, glaring at the cakes on the table as if they were the Retainer in question.

“Be that as it may, he does do a good job,” Leo said.

“Indeed,” Xander agreed. “It takes a certain kind of man to serve nobility, let alone the King. Keep that in mind, sister.”

“I don’t like him either,” Elise pouted.

“I’d feel better if he had said who Corrin’s guide will be,” Camilla said. “There are only a few decent trackers in the Nohrian army, after all.”

“Perhaps it’s part of the test,” Corrin reasoned. “Maybe he wants to see how I react to the unknown?”

“Perhaps,” Xander nodded thoughtfully. “Either way we won’t know until the morning. In the mean-time; Camilla, are you just about done?”

The Princess started a little before looking back down at the fabric bunched in her hands. She smiled and nodded, rising to her feet as Elise leaned forward expectantly.

“I was just putting the finishing touches on it as Corrin and Elise arrived,” she explained, holding the cloth out to Corrin.

He accepted the bundle, unfurling it and letting the rich fabric brush the floor as he inspected it.

“It’s a new cape?” he said.

It was clearly of the highest quality, Camilla’s skills rivalling even the most sought-after of the Royal Tailors. Corrin had nothing even remotely close to the level of the cape, not even his old one, but judging from the looks on his siblings’ faces they didn’t care.

“Your old one was beginning to look a little beat up,” Xander said with a grin.

“Yeah, whose fault was that?” Elise laughed.

“It looked like you had a rag hanging off you,” Leo scoffed. “This one is worthy of a Prince of Nohr.”

“I made it myself,” Camilla said. “Turn around, let me put it on you.”

Corrin nodded, handing the cape back before turning. Camilla stepped forward, reaching around him to fix the cape around his neck, the clasps that would attach to his armor clicking together around his throat for now. Before he could turn back around he found himself enveloped in a soft embrace as Camilla leaned on him.

“Sister…” Corrin sighed.

“Sorry, sorry!” she chuckled, stepping back. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

Corrin turned, swishing the cape out a little for good measure as he did so.

“Well? How do I look?”

The others exchanged glances before Xander nodded and smiled.

“You look like a Prince,” he said, pride evident in his tone and posture.

*

Corrin let out an exhausted sigh later that evening, setting the thick leather-bound tome he’d been reading down on the table in front of him and rubbing his eyes wearily.

He was reading the book, a particularly wordy tome on Nohrian Law that Leo had recommended to him. “It’s a decent read,” the younger Prince had said, which usually translated to “You had better read this, it was riveting”. Unfortunately, Leo’s taste had grown dryer and dryer in the last few years, and Corrin wondered just how he found Treaties on Law to be ‘decent’.

He was in his rooms again, Gunter sitting across from him reading from a similar book while Felicia was doing her best at cleaning the small kitchen the suite possessed. Judging from the continuous stream of crashes and the sounds of dishes shattering Corrin would need to petition Krakenburg’s Head Maid for some new crockery when they returned.

Another particularly loud crash sounded, actually making Gunter glance up this time, too.

“I’m okay!” Felicia’s haggard voice assured them from the other room.

It appeared Corrin would need to requisition a lot of new crockery when they returned. He grinned a little as Felicia finally emerged from the kitchen, balancing a tray of tea and some small biscuits in her hands, her face set in a concentrated frown as her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth. She moved slowly and awkwardly before finally shakily depositing the tray on the table.

“Hooray! You did it, Felicia!” Corrin laughed, clapping encouragingly.

The maid instantly blushed, dropping a curtsey at the compliment and retreating to a respectful distance until she was called for again. Usually Corrin liked to have tea with her in the evenings, too, but Gunter frowned on it. A Lord treating their servant as an equal never ended well, he always cautioned.

The old Knight gave a tired sigh of his own, setting his book aside and leaning forward to pour the tea. Usually Jakob or Flora would be handling that, but without them present the duty fell onto Gunter. Traditionally serving the tea would have been Felicia’s job, but it was amazing enough she hadn’t dropped the tray on her way over, and Corrin didn’t want to push his luck.

“I haven’t seen you around the Palace much since we arrived, Gunter,” Corrin said conversationally.

“Indeed?” Gunter muttered absently, sliding a cup and saucer towards the Prince. “There’s no need to worry. Old men like I just prefer to relax alone sometimes.”

“I see,” Corrin chuckled. “You know, I searched my memories and recalled some of what the servants used to say about you before they were reassigned.”

“Oh? And what did they say?” Gunter asked curiously.

“I remember them talking about some of the things you used to do,” the Prince said, leaning forward slightly. “One such thing was wandering the fortress late at night.”

“Ah, yes, I recall doing that,” Gunter mumbled, feigning disinterest as he sipped his tea. “What else did they speak of?”

Corrin couldn’t help but grin a little at the old man’s act. The Prince’s memories often came and went, and Gunter was always the one that he trusted to verify if they were true or false. It was a sort of long-standing game for the two; Corrin rambling off the fragmented bits of his past that came randomly to him, and Gunter hinting if they were real or imagined until he made up his own mind.

“It had to do with your meals,” Corrin continued.

Gunter grunted noncommittally, staring down into his cup.

“They talked about how you'd often request two or more portions at mealtime,” he went on. “But you'd never finish either and would end up taking some back to your quarters. And despite this extra food, you'd do the same thing the next meal, too. So, wandering around rather than sleeping, and forgetting how much food you had... It was actually a bit worrying to remember this, you know.”

“ There is nothing to worry about, milord. I do not have these habits any longer,” Gunter assured him placatingly.

“Really?” Corrin asked. “They've simply… gone away?”

“Indeed.”

“I get the feeling you are hiding something from me,” Corrin persisted. “And I suspect it has something to do with that paper you were holding the other day.”

“Milord, I appreciate your concern, but there are some things that even the most loyal of retainers wish to keep to themselves,” the old Knight said, his voice sounding old and tired to Corrin.

“If you insist, Gunter...” Corrin trailed off.

“It is of no consequence,” Gunter said with a nod. “More importantly, you are prepared for tomorrow, yes?”

“I am,” Corrin nodded confidently.

Felicia perked up, listening intently to the conversation now.

“After all, I can’t fail my first official mission,” he continued. “I know that I cannot accept aid from my brothers or sisters, but I can still count on you, right?”

“I am getting a little old to be travelling so much,” Gunter said with a rare smirk. “But I would be lying if the thought of watching over your debut did not appeal to me. You can always count on me, milord.”

“A-and me!” Felicia piped up, stepping forward and clasping her hands nervously at her chest. “I’ll come, too! You’ll need someone that can use a healing staff!”

Corrin laughed, holding up his hands to calm the panicked maid.

“Did you really worry I’d leave you, of all people, behind?” he chuckled.

“W-well I’m… kinda clumsy, and…” she mumbled, trailing off as she looked at the floor.

“So with the two of you and the guide we’ll be meeting in the morning our party will number four,” Corrin said, excitement clear in his voice.

“Do not forget that this is an important mission, Lord Corrin,” Gunter warned, slowly standing. “You should also ensure that you get adequate rest this evening. I am going to retire now. Sleep well, Lord Corrin, Felicia.”

“Night, Gunter,” Corrin called after him.

He glanced at the tray, then at Felicia, and broke out into another grin.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice the third cup you prepared?” he asked laughingly. “Better sit and help me finish this tea before it gets cold.”

*

The next morning Corrin stifled a yawn as Gunter led him and Felicia down to the Great Bridge, where they were to meet Iago and the mysterious guide that King Garon had arranged for them. His new cape was securely fixed to his pauldrons, his newly repaired armor having been delivered by a tired Arthur before he’d even woken. Behind him it appeared that Felicia was letting out every yawn he stifled, and the sight made him grin a little. Ever the dutiful maid, Felicia had been up almost two hours early, making sure everything they would need was packed. Judging from the massive pack on her thin shoulders, she’d decided to pack half the kitchen.

Despite everything that had happened since arriving, Corrin had to admit that in the last few days he’d smiled more than he had in the last six months.

As they stepped out into the weak daylight Corrin was pleased, and not even mildly surprised, to find all of his siblings standing waiting for him, along with a few of their retainers, as well. Effie was subtly holding up a still clearly groggy Elise, while Selena and Odin quietly talked a few steps behind Leo and Camilla, both of whom were in their casual clothes still. Beruka hovered at Camilla’s side, while Xander and Laslow talked in hushed voices over some more reports. All of them looked up as Corrin and his party appeared, Xander and Camilla visibly relaxing when they caught sight of Gunter and Felicia.

“I will fetch the horses, Milord,” Gunter said with a shallow bow. “Felicia, assist me.”

“R-right!” the maid chirped, hitching her pack higher up on her back and hurrying after the Knight.

Effie gave Elise a gentle prod to wake her up before the retainers all retreated to a respectful distance. Odin gave Corrin a confident nod, and Laslow a tired grin as they all moved back. Selena crossed her arms and sunk to a hip, but her glare held none of the edge it usually did. Beruka simply studied him impassively, the same as she always did.

“Ready to go?” Xander asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Corrin replied.

“I still don’t like this,” Camilla sighed. “Maybe I could send Beruka with you?”

“Sister, please,” Corrin groaned. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much.”

“I can’t help but worry, though, Darling,” she sighed, frowning.

Leo and Elise both snickered as Xander placed a comforting hand on their sister’s shoulder.

“He’ll be fine, Camilla,” he promised. “This is something he needs to do alone.”

“No, not entirely alone.”

All of the siblings, and even the retainers, looked up in shock as King Garon himself stepped out onto the bridge with them, clad in his usual armor and cape. At his back were Iago and a large, heavily muscled man without a single hair on his egg-shaped head. The stranger turned his glare over the royals before settling on Corrin and giving a cold smirk. As the trio walked a strange jingling sound accompanied them. Only when they got closer did Corrin realize that the bald man was clapped in irons.

“Father!” Corrin exclaimed. “We… didn’t see you there.”

Garon smirked, stopping before his children and standing tall. According to Leo it had been months since the King had gone anywhere besides his throne room and his quarters. To see him so far away from either had clearly had an impact on his children. Iago was impassive as he waited for the King’s directive, but the bald man was clearly chaffing at his bonds.

“Rest assured that I have no intention of sending you out completely defenseless, boy,” Garon declared, indicating to the bald man. “Take your Retainer and your maid, and my guide.”

“Milords, Ladies,” the man nodded, almost grudgingly.

“This is Hans,” Garon explained, a smile spreading across his face. “He is a veteran warrior and will ensure no trouble befalls you.”

“Thank you, Father,” Corrin said before turning to Hans. “And well met, sir Hans.”

The big man grinned coldly, nodding. “Likewise, Milord.”

Corrin found himself drawn to Hans’ eyes; cold, dark and beady orbs set beneath his heavy brow. They spoke of a lifetime of conflict and war and death, and Corrin found himself unnerved by the man’s intense gaze.

“Iago. Release him,” Garon commanded. “Hans, if you accomplish this mission, you will go free, your transgressions forgiven.”

“Thank you, King Garon,” Hans said, lowering his head humbly.

Iago moved silently, a sour look on his face as he quickly undid the shackles on Hans’ wrists and ankles. The bigger man let out a relieved breath as he rubbed at his newly released appendages, a grin spreading to his face again. Xander stepped up to Corrin’s shoulder as this was taking place, leaning low to whisper in his ear.

“I would be wary of that man if I were you, Corrin,” the Crown Prince warned. “I arrested him myself for murder and sadism a few years ago.”

“Father clearly trusts him,” Corrin muttered back.

“I believe Father’s trust may be misplaced. Do not turn your back on him. That said, he is a formidable soldier. Just… be careful.”

Corrin nodded stepping forward and extending his hand to the newly released Hans.

“I look forward to working with you, sir Hans,” Corrin said, his eyes scrutinizing the bigger man’s own this time.

There was a brief moment where something, some emotion Corrin had never encountered before, flashed in the soldier’s dark gaze before he nodded again and clasped the Prince’s hand.

“Likewise, Prince Corrin,” Hans rumbled. “You may trust me with your life. After all, it is more than just your own freedom riding on this mission.”

*

They rode, then, for the rest of the day, Hans at their head leading them through the uniformly desolate Nohrian countryside. A few times in the distance Corrin thought he spotted the shadows of the great evergreen forests that covered large swathes of Nohr, the untamed wilds largely uncharted and ignored as the Nohrian citizens focused on what land they could actually cultivate, but Hans led them away from the forests. They travelled in near silence, only speaking up when it was time to break or when Corrin needed clarification about anything. Felicia didn’t say a word the whole day, glaring cautiously at the back of the man leading them, while Gunter was simply his usual stoic self.

Hans had a large axe strapped to his back, its wicked curved blade glinting menacingly in the dark Nohrian afternoon. He’d also donned some thick leather armor, the black segments little more than pauldrons and straps across his barrel chest and back.

During the first evening they made camp near a dry, rocky riverbed. Hans sat silently, staring into the fire while Felicia tried, and failed miserably, to erect Corrin’s tent. Gunter had to go and assist her, as he always did, leaving the young Prince alone with the warrior.

Hans snorted loudly, hocking up some phlegm and spitting crassly away from the fire before glancing up at Corrin.

“Saw that pretty Mage at the gate eyeballing you,” he grunted. “She sweet for ya?”

Corrin was taken aback for a second, gaping and unsure as to how to respond. This was the first that the big warrior had spoken all day. Corrin actually relaxed a little, though, when he realized that Hans was making an attempt to warm up to him.

If only the topic were a little less… sensitive.

“Er, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Corrin muttered embarrassedly. “Shade has been… rather friendly towards me.”

Hans grinned, his cruel gaze softening a little as he chuckled.

“Good woman, that one,” he said.

“Yeah?” Corrin said.

Hans nodded with a grunt, still grinning.

“You should lay your claim fast,” he suggested. “Woman like her won’t last long in the Capital.”

“O-oh?” Corrin said, growing more uncomfortable. “How would… I… you know…”

Hans actually barked out some harsh laughter, the sound making Corrin’s cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“You tellin’ me you got a pretty little thing like that maid-girl followin’ you round and you ain’t even done nothing?” Hans laughed incredulously. “Ah, kids these days.”

“Well, what would you do then?” Corrin blurted out defensively.

“With that mage girl?” Hans asked, licking his lips as his eyes took on a far-away quality. “I’d bend her over, make her scream. Make her beg for it. Force her at first if I have to, but they all enjoy it in the end. She’d never walk the same again. But with your little maid girl? I’d-”

“Okay, wow!” Corrin said quickly, throwing up his hands. “That’s way more than I wanted to know!”

“So next time don’t ask,” Hans chuckled, going back to staring at the fire.

For the rest of the night there was very little talk, but Felicia gave the burly warrior a wide berth. The lascivious grin didn’t leave Hans’ face until the next morning when they mounted up again. At some point after a nearly silent lunch on the third day of their journey Hans turned in his saddle, looking back at the small party following him.

“There’s a fort near the border about another hour away,” he explained. “It’ll get dark soon, so we’ll break there for the night and set out again in the morning. It’ll be our last chance to stock up on supplies, too.”

Corrin nodded his understanding, and the big man turned back in his saddle and continued looking silently ahead. After their first night camping Hans had retreated in on himself, growing distant again. Granted, Corrin hadn’t really tried to reach out to the big man, but something just felt… off about him. It made Corrin uncomfortable, and he was relatively certain it unsettled Felicia just as much.

When they came into sight of the old fort it was actually a relief to see the other Nohrian soldiers on the ramparts, watching with undisguised curiosity at the small band of travelers.

“Hans and I will go and talk to the Commander of the fort to arrange lodgings,” Gunter announced. “Do not reveal our identities. Do not reveal our mission. Understood?”

Corrin and Felicia both nodded as they passed through the large gateway, emerging into a central courtyard of packed earth. For a moment the Prince had flashbacks of the Northern Fortress, but he quelled those feelings. Around them off-duty soldiers loitered around, sitting and talking in small groups, some playing cards and others simply resting alone around drum fires placed randomly around the space. An air of destitution hung over the entire courtyard and all the soldiers within, many having roughly patched their uniforms and armor as if they no longer cared. The fort itself, too, seemed to be held together mostly through random patch jobs, many sections of the outer walls simply abandoned and left to crumble.

As Hans and Gunter continued through the courtyard to the main fort Corrin and Felicia found themselves the center of attention from the bored soldiers. All of them kept their distance, though, wary of the well-dressed travelers.

“Nice place,” Corrin muttered sarcastically.

Felicia nodded silently, doing her best to appear small as she hid behind her Lord.

*

That evening Corrin stepped out of the Fort’s main building and back into the courtyard, wrapping his new cape around himself a little tighter to ward off the night’s chill. He needed some air after the dinner in the oppressive building. Gunter and Felicia had retired to the room they were sharing, at Corrin’s insistence. Hans would be bunking in the garrison’s billets, and the Commander had vacated his own quarters when he’d found out who Corrin was. They were keeping it quiet, but for some inexplicable reason Corrin still wanted to leave before any of the soldiers found out who he was. He found himself reasoning that it was the fortune telling girl, Nyx’s, prediction making him antsy.

_A hidden enemy strikes at your heart from shadow as you descend into a world unseen…_

Corrin scoffed a little as he wandered aimlessly. The entire world was unseen by him, having lived for so long caged in the Northern Fortress. Nohr was a nation steeped in shadows. She couldn’t have been any vaguer, and it was playing on his nerves, making him edgy.

“Urgh… I can’t believe we got stuck out here on the freaking border. This is the worst damn posting ever.”

“There’s no forests this far north.”

“And it’s freezing! It’s supposed to be spring, isn’t it!?”

“Well, look at how you’re dressed.”

“Are you sassing me?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Better.”

Corrin glanced over to one of the drum fires, spotting two soldiers standing next to it. A mountain of a man, easily head and shoulders over the already formidable Hans, was standing next to the fire with a smaller blonde woman. The man wore thick black Nohrian plate armor, adding to his imposing aura, while the woman wore next to nothing; a pair of silver pauldrons over the least amount of clothes Corrin had seen on a woman yet. She was practically standing out in the night chill in her smallclothes and a pair of thigh-high boots, nothing at all left to the imagination. However, despite this she still leaned against the haft of a mighty axe, perhaps even bigger than Hans’.

“But aren’t you cold?” the giant asked her after a moment.

She opened her mouth to respond, hesitating when she caught sight of Corrin watching them. Her pretty face twisted into a frightening scowl after a brief moment.

“What’re you looking at?” she snarled.

The big man turned now, too, and Corrin found himself somewhat cowed by the two heavy gazes on him. However, the giant man smiled kindly, the expression very out of place on his rough face, and motioned Corrin over.

“You must be cold, too,” he said. “Come. Share our fire.”

Corrin nodded woodenly, slowly approaching the fire. The woman continued to glare at him, but held her tongue and eventually sighed.

“I’m Benny,” the big man said. “That’s Charlotte. We’re Border Guards at this fort.”

“It’s, uh… nice to meet you both,” Corrin said hesitantly.

“Figures,” Charlotte muttered darkly, staring at the flames between them. “A great hero like Sir Gunter shows up, and I get stuck with his squire. Ah, if he were ten years younger…”

Corrin and Benny both snorted, the giant man grinning as Corrin spoke.

“I think you’d need to take another ten years off on top of that. He’s quite a bit older than he looks.”

“I don’t even care,” Charlotte muttered. “Great hero like him’d make a great husband. He’s bound to have heaps of cash.”

“Is that why… you’re dressed like that?” Corrin asked. “To try and attract a husband?”

“You got a problem with that?” Charlotte growled.

“N-no! Not at all!” Corrin said quickly. “In fact I think it looks great on you!”

The woman snorted through her nose, looking down on him for a second before giving him a small grin.

“Thanks, but I’m looking for someone a little higher up than a squire.”

“What? You don’t think that-” Corrin stammered frantically.

“Actually, I heard a rumor from one of the guys on cooking duty that a-” Benny started, giving Corrin a pointed look.

“Argh!” Charlotte groaned, cutting them off. “I hate the border! I’ll never find a good man here!”

“Uh, Charlotte? Like I said-” Benny tried again.

“Why is getting a good husband so important?” Corrin asked, cutting off the quiet giant’s speech. “Shouldn’t you just find someone that makes you happy?”

“Money makes me happy,” Charlotte deadpanned. “A scrub like you wouldn’t understand.”

“Charlotte, you really shouldn’t-” Benny tried again.

Corrin chuckled a little before bursting into full laughter, holding his stomach as he doubled over.

“What? You touched in the head?” Charlotte asked condescendingly. “You one’a those guys what gets off on being abused?”

“No, not at all,” Corrin assured her. “I just never expected to be spoken to like that by someone not related to me.”

She quirked a brow as Benny snickered, running a hand down his face. Before anyone else could speak, though, a thick arm was thrown roughly over her shoulder, Hans leaning bodily on the shorter woman, a half empty bottle of wine clutched in his other hand.

“’ello, pretty,” he slurred. “Been a long time since I smelled beautiful.”

“Hans, control yourself,” Corrin began to say.

Charlotte groaned as the young Prince spoke, attempting to push the axeman off of her, but he leaned heavier and actually grabbed onto one of her breasts as he did. Charlotte’s reaction was instant and furious, spinning out of Hans’ grip and laying him flat with a straight punch to the jaw, all in one smooth movement. Then, as he fell drunkenly back on his rear blinking and shaking his head in surprise, Charlotte hefted the massive axe she’d been leaning on with one thin arm, brandishing it dangerously.

“I’m going to make you pay for that,” she growled, her pretty face a terrifying mask of rage.

Hans was back on his feet in an instant, smashing the bottle in his hand on one armored knee and holding it up like a sword, wine and shards of glass littering the ground.

“C’mon, then,” he goaded her with a manic grin and a guttural growl. “More fun this way. Love it when I gotta earn it.”

Corrin and Benny both moved at the same time, the mountain of a man restraining Charlotte with an arm around her midsection as Corrin stepped forward, interposing himself between them.

“Hans, stand down!” Corrin practically shouted in his most authoritative voice. “You’re drunk. Go back to your bunk and sleep it off.”

Hans looked up at the Prince as if noticing him for the first time, his face drunkenly slack before realization kicked in. He chuckled, dropping the broken bottle in his hand and shrugging apologetically as he backed away.

“Can’t blame a man for tryin’,” he said. “Been locked up a long time. Drink made me lose control.”

“I’ll make you lose your-” Charlotte snarled, Benny cutting her off as he clamped an armored hand over her mouth.

“Night, Prince Corrin,” Hans slurred, finally turning away. “Get some rest. Long day a ridin’ tomorrow.”

Corrin deflated, watching as Hans disappeared back into the keep and vowing to keep a much closer eye on him over the coming days. Behind him he heard a gasp, and he turned to see Benny backing away from a shocked Charlotte.

“D-did he just… say ‘Prince’?” she asked, her lip quivering as she went pale.

“I tried to tell you,” Benny sighed. “Cooks were saying one of the visitors is a Prince.”

“A-as in… Nohrian royalty?” Charlotte asked in a small voice.

“Er… yeah,” Corrin admitted hesitantly.

Charlotte looked at him aghast for a moment, neither saying a word nor even moving. Then, as if a dam had broken, Charlotte’s personality inverted and big, fat tears began to well in her eyes and flow down her face.

“Th-that man… accosted me!” she cried, flinging herself at Corrin’s chest. “P-prince Corrin! Thank… thank you for saving me from him!”

Corrin’s own eyes went wide as he looked over her head at Benny, begging him silently for help or advice or anything. The imposing giant of a man just shrugged, looking away and moving closer to the fire again.

“I was so… f-frightened, milord!” Charlotte went on, wrapping her arms tighter around Corrin’s chest. “I’m just… so delicate, and surrounded all day by these… burly men! What is a woman to do?”

“How would I know!?” Corrin blurted without thinking, trying to dislodge her.

“Oh, I wish there were a brave, dashing Prince to sweep me off my feet and take me away from this…” Charlotte went on, pressing herself tighter against him.

Corrin groaned, pushing a little harder at her shoulders now. He felt bad about what Hans had done, and would reprimand the warrior severely in the morning, but…

“I’ll let my brothers know you’re looking,” Corrin promised quickly.

Charlotte let out another weak sniffle, shifting a little and pressing her body flush to Corrin’s own, and making him extremely happy he’d opted to remain in his armor.

“Er, I apologize for my subordinate’s behavior,” Corrin said desperately, finally pulling himself out of her embrace and making for the fort’s keep. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to travel early tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, milord,” Benny said cordially.

“Make sure you tell your brothers about the delicate part!” Charlotte called after him.

Corrin shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he tried to come to terms with his confusion. Charlotte had been like an entirely different person in the end there. It had been… somewhat disturbing.

“What is it with the women in this country?” he muttered to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Corrin woke slowly, blinking himself awake reluctantly as the grey haze of sleep refused to leave him. Giving a great yawn he ran a hand down his face, shifting a little beneath the thick, rough blanket atop him and going rigid.

This wasn’t his bed, and that wasn’t the ceiling of his room in the Northern Fortress.

Sitting up quickly the young Prince felt a sense of panic rising as he glanced around the unfamiliar room. An armor rack with a standard black officer’s suit hanging off of it, much too big to be his; bare stone walls, rough and poorly hewn; an old free-standing closet and a shuttered window, both made of the same dark timber, and both looking the worse for wear. Just as Corrin threw the blanket off of himself the only door in the room opened, and he felt an immense sense of relief wash over him as Felicia stepped in.

“Oh! Lord Corrin, you’re awake!” she said.

A shirtless Corrin crossed the space in a flash, both hands gripping his maid’s shoulders as he looked urgently into her eyes.

“Felicia, where are we?” he asked. “What’s happened!?”

She seemed taken aback for a moment before a sad smile rose to her face. Slowly, gently, Felicia took Corrin’s hands from her shoulders and wrapped her own around them, holding them to her chest.

“Take a deep breath, Lord Corrin,” she said in a gentle voice. “Calm yourself. It’ll all come back to you soon.”

Corrin quirked his head to one side, but did as she asked. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep, calming breaths. He felt Felicia release his hands with one of hers, bringing her cool fingers to tenderly brush the side of his face. Without even thinking Corrin leaned into her hand, feeling some of the tension leave him at the soothing sensation of her small, delicate fingers. As soon as the chill of her flesh against his own registered Corrin groaned, stepping back and running a hand through his hair as he opened his eyes.

It had happened again. After months without an episode, he’d lost his short-term memory again. Fortunately, no doubt thanks to Felicia’s familiar presence, he’d been able to get it back relatively quickly this time, but…

“I did it again, didn’t I?” he asked sourly.

Corrin turned away, reaching for the shirt and clothes he’d discarded the night before on the floor.

“It’s not your fault, Corrin,” Felicia said kindly, dropping his title. “Who can blame you? We’ve been so busy in the last couple of days that-”

“That’s not it, Felicia,” he cut her off, pulling his shirt on over his head as he spoke. “What happens when I have a blank-out while I’m on a Campaign? Or if I’m on a mission? If I’m doing something important and I suddenly forget where or who I am again? What happens when you’re not there to help me remember?”

“I’ll always be there,” Felicia promised, a fire in her voice Corrin rarely heard from the timid maid. “I’ll always be by your side, for whatever you need, Corrin. Always.”

Corrin turned, smiling sadly himself now.

“I appreciate that, Felicia, but I can’t depend on you forever,” he said, a note of melancholy hanging over his words.

“You can!” she insisted, coming towards him. “I am your servant, Lord Corrin! No one… no one but yours!”

Corrin chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and resting his forehead on her shoulder. Felicia gave a little squeak before relaxing, resting her own hands on his back and returning the embrace. It was a familiar scene, one they had repeated countless times since they were children, when Corrin had been alone and Felicia terrified of her new surroundings in the Northern Fortress. They had always taken solace in one-another, despite their differing stations in life. Once, Corrin had even thought that he loved her, but that had been a long time ago. Still, though, they took their solace from each other’s presence. Even if their time together had been limited of late.

“How long has it been since you’ve hugged me like this?” she asked after a time, echoing his own thoughts.

“Too long,” Corrin sighed. “I forgot how relaxing your presence could be. When you’re not breaking all my plates and cups.”

Felicia laughed guiltily as they separated, smiling up at him bashfully.

“I guess it’s a good thing all of our camping utensils are tin, right?”

Corrin snorted, shaking his head.

“I guess so.”

*

Corrin shook his head, attempting to dislodge the last lingering traces of his lapse in memory from that morning as he stepped out into the yard of the Keep. He blinked in the weak Nohrian daylight, looking at the interior walls of the small fort as if for the first time. He glanced up as another familiar presence approached, Gunter clearing his throat and clasping his hands behind his back as he came to a stop.

“Good morning, Prince Corrin,” the old Knight said. “I’ve spoken to Felicia already. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, Gunter,” Corrin said with a reassuring smile. “Nothing I’m not used to.”

“Very good then,” the Retainer said with a nod. “Given the circumstances I’ve taken the liberty of disciplining Hans in your stead for his reprehensible behavior last night.”

Corrin nodded, vaguely recalling that there was another man travelling with them, one that he was supposed to be angry with.

“He is speaking with the Fort Commander to verify our route while Felicia prepares the horses,” Gunter went on. “Milord. Are you sure you’re okay? You seem rather unfocused.”

“Don’t worry, Gunter, I’m fine,” Corrin assured his Retainer. “You worry too much!”

“And you not enough, Prince Corrin,” the older man huffed. “Really now, I won’t be here to hold your hand forever, you know.”

“Please, don’t start actually holding my hand,” Corrin laughed.

Gunter sighed and shook his head, both men lapsing into a comfortable silence as they waited for the remaining members of their party. Corrin glanced up as a squad of border guards marched out of the old wooden barracks, dressed in black uniforms and grey, mottled cloaks to better hide in the dreary Nohrian landscape. One of the border guards stopped when her gaze met with Corrin’s, a woman showing far too much flesh beneath her cloak whose face broke into a radiant smile as she came running up to Corrin and Gunter.

“Milord Corrin!” she greeted excitedly. “I was hoping I’d get to see you again before I left on patrol! How did you sleep?”

“Er… well, thank you,” he said with a shallow nod.

“That’s lovely!” the blonde woman laughed. “I made you a lunch for today! It isn’t much, but I hope you enjoy it. And maybe you’ll think of me when you come back on your way home. Ta!”

With that the blonde woman spun on her heel and ran to catch up with the rest of her squad, leaving Corrin holding a small bundle wrapped in a pink handkerchief while Gunter looked on with a level face.

“I assume you are acquainted with that woman, milord?” the Knight asked.

“Maybe?” Corrin shrugged. “She seemed to know who I am.”

“I swear,” Gunter sighed. “Less than a week out of the Fortress and I’m already beating girls off you with a stick. I don’t know whether to be proud of you or annoyed at the extra work.”

Corrin looked down at the small lunch in his hands, tentatively unwrapping the bright bundle. He was surprised to find simple rations the likes he and the others had been eating lately. The Prince’s brow furrowed as he glanced back up, catching one last glimpse of the patrol as they left the fort.

The woman had no doubt given him her own rations for the day.

“Who… is she to me?” Corrin mumbled, carefully wrapping the precious bundle and depositing it into his hip pouch.

*

Back at Castle Krakenburg life went on as usual, despite an air of anxiety hanging over the royal siblings. Xander was tired and distracted, as if he hadn’t been sleeping. Camilla, irritable and liable to snap at any provocation, a dangerous situation given the upcoming ball she was organizing. Elise stopped to stare forlornly out at the great bridge to the castle every time she passed a window.

Leo gave a heaving sigh, placing the book in his hands down on the table before him and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

Of course, he was no exception. Try as he might, he just couldn’t help but feel anxious for his older brother Corrin.

Despite being so close in age the two were practically polar opposites. Leo put it up to Corrin’s strange amnesia-like symptoms; if the man had remembered what had been done to him, the whippings, the beatings, the starvation, no doubt he’d be just as dour and quiet as Leo himself was. But he wasn’t. For all his hardships Corrin was still open and friendly, always the first to laugh and always brightening up a room with his presence. In that respect he was more similar to their sister Elise than anyone else, but where her attitude held a note of stubborn innocence Corrin’s felt forced, almost desperate. As if he were afraid that if he gave up his good cheer there would be nothing of him left.

Leo sighed again, shaking the thoughts of his brother from his head. He was meant to be working, trying to help Xander figure out a long-term answer to their nation’s poor crop yields. The younger Prince had devised a few strategies involving crop rotation on what good soil they had and some experimental recipes for fertilizers to hopefully create more workable land, but…

“Dammit, Xander, I’m a mage, not a farmer,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

The Royal Nohrian Library was his domain; for any problem his siblings had that required research, they turned to him. _“If you love your books so much then make it your job, boy,”_ King Garon had said on his eighteenth birthday before appointing him the new Librarian. It had been two years since then, and Leo had turned the disaster-area of loose paper and misplaced books into an ordered haven of knowledge.

The Library occupied the top five floors of Krakenburg’s southern tower, but most of that was hollow. Only the bottom floor was filled with shelves, wide balconies around the outer walls connected with spiral staircases and ladders at regular intervals replacing the usual floor plan of the towers. Leo had spent his entire first year simply cleaning and cataloguing what he could, reluctantly disposing of the manuscripts and books that were damaged from neglect and repairing the shelves where he had needed to. Elise had helped as much as she could, still being too young for any official duties of her own, but much of the work had been heavy lifting at first. Heavy lifting that Arthur and Effie, while both dumb as a pair of stones, had been perfectly suited for. Then Odin had come along, like a loud, flamboyant godsend. The older man, while eccentric, was surprisingly intelligent. He had helped Leo immensely with reorganizing the Library, even if he did have a tendency to get distracted by the history texts or rarer spellbooks.

Leo glanced down from his perch on the second balcony as the mage in question let out a triumphant shout.

“At last! Lord Leo! I’ve completed my quest!”

Leo sighed, shaking his head as a small grin rose to his face. The sounds of Odin’s hurried footsteps grew closer and louder, clanging on the spiral stairs between balconies before he finally emerged, panting and holding a thick ledger.

The main floor of the library was all of the pertinent data for the running of a country; the books, histories, poetry, novels and the like were on the balconies. The higher one went, the less important the books. Leo often found himself drawn to the poetry on the top floor, not that he’d ever admit it. He’d also spotted Camilla’s retainer, Selena, rummaging through the romance section from time to time.

Odin was holding a thick ledger marked with dates from five years ago; it was a record of all the lawkeeping that Xander and the army had done during that year. Surprisingly thin, compared to some of the more recent years’ ledgers, Leo noted.

“Good work, Odin,” Leo said with a nod. “Leave the book and then go check in on Niles. He’s been gone for-”

“It’s nice to know you care, Lord Leo.”

Both men started and looked up at where the archer in question was lazing on the stairs to the next balcony up. He gave a grin as he slowly rose to his feet and sauntered down to join them, coming to a stop next to Odin.

“You know for the King’s Castle and the center of the nation, the security here is pretty lax,” Niles commented idly.

Niles was Odin’s polar opposite in almost every way, too, Leo liked to think. The former thief and gangster was quiet, composed and, one could argue, somewhat sneaky. But, like Odin, Niles had his uses; namely his connections to the sprawling Nohrian underworld, connections Leo wasn’t shy of making use of when he needed to. And despite his sordid past Leo had found that Niles was as trustworthy as they came.

“How long have you been back?” Leo asked, beginning to thumb through the ledger that Odin had found.

“Not long,” Niles shrugged. “Took me a little while to find someone still breathing that was around in my old life five years ago, but I did.”

“And?” Leo pressed.

“It’s like I said,” Niles reported. “No one wants to talk about him. The thought of him going free has them running scared. I did manage to get some details out of an old… ‘friend’, though. Not pretty stuff.”

Leo nodded, his hands freezing as he found the entry in Xander’s handwriting he was looking for. Eyes darting back and forth across the page they grew wider and wider until he felt his stomach rebel at the details his older brother had so meticulously scribed. Clapping the book closed he handed it back to Odin and rose to his feet, stormclouds seeming to pass over his face as he frowned.

“Niles, I want you to find the route that Corrin’s party took to the Canyon. Leave immediately.”

“Oh? But I just got back. You sure are a slave driver, Lord Leo,” Niles laughed, already turning to leave.

Behind him Leo heard Odin gasp as the horrors that Xander outlined in the report.

Horrors committed by Corrin’s guide, Hans.

Something wasn’t right here. Leo couldn’t place it, but the feeling of dread refused to leave him, a feeling he’d found was rarely wrong.

“Th-this…” the mage mumbled. “Why was this man not killed on the spot!?”

“I don’t know,” Leo said. “But I don’t trust him. Prepare your belongings. We’re going after them. If we leave now and ride hard we can catch up with them.”

“But Lord Leo, what of your father’s orders?” Odin asked. “What of your siblings?”

“My siblings?” Leo scoffed. “They’ll be the first ones in line to come with me!”

Odin stopped for a moment, blinking before a grin split his face.

“Yes!” he hissed. “What manner of servant to the dark powers of infinity would hesitate to break rules and disobey orders!? I swear to you, Lord Leo, that I, Odin Dark, shall… L-Lord Leo? Where are you… wait, wait for me!”

Leo’s head was already disappearing down through the spiral staircase as Odin jumped, tossing the ledger onto the closest table and hurrying to catch up with his liege.

“This is so exciting!” he added to himself, a grin splitting the blonde man’s face.

“Are you coming or not?” Leo’s irritated voice echoed around the library.

*

“So… this is the Bottomless Canyon? Wow…”

Corrin and his party had travelled another three days from the border fort, led by a now silent and almost wholly unresponsive Hans. The big man’s face was blotched with purple bruising even now, days after Gunter’s ‘disciplining’, and whenever Gunter wasn’t looking Hans would glare murderously at him.

Corrin looked around in awe at his surroundings, stepping out of the shelter of the small rock formation they would be leaving their horses at, instantly being buffeted by strong winds and having to shield his face. Above them lighting pierced a sky of dark stormclouds, apparently a permanent feature of the canyon. Just ahead of them was the canyon itself, where the ground just seemed to stop. A few hundred meters away Corrin could make out the shapes of some old rope bridges swaying dangerously in the wind, and across the canyon the shape of an old fort broke up the dark skyline of shadowy, jutting rock formations.

Thunder rumbled overhead, causing Felicia to whimper and move a little closer to Corrin. Gunter finished checking that the horses were secure before approaching them, his frown more severe than usual. Hans hung back, only joining them after Gunter had and still keeping his distance.

“Yes,” Gunter said. “This is the natural boundary that separates Hoshido and Nohr.”

“It can’t really be bottomless, can it?” Corrin asked curiously.

As he spoke he took a few more steps towards the canyon, trying to peer into the abyss.

“Let the eternal darkness below be your answer,” Gunter said dismissively. “Those who fall in never return. Mind your footing.”

Corrin froze, backing away from the ledge and hurrying to join Gunter and Felicia.

“I truly despise this place,” Gunter went on, his voice a low growl. “Something about the land around here just isn’t right. The sky here is always dark and foreboding, and lightning strikes all who fly across. Truly I had hoped to never have to return here.”

Corrin shuddered as another gust of wind tugged at his cape, chilling him even through his armor and clothes.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly feeling welcome here,” he agreed.

“Clearly this is a place where we mortals were never meant to tread,” Gunter continued. “Normally we’d go around, making the crossing over the sea into Hoshido from the south…”

“But our objective lies right over there,” Corrin sighed, pointing to the fort on the horizon.

“Indeed,” Gunter nodded.

“You know, it could be worse,” Corrin said optimistically. “It could be raining, after all.”

“Does nothing shake your mood?” Gunter snorted.

“Maybe I’m just happy to be outside, away from that damned Fortress,” the Prince shrugged. “Compared to that, this is downright exciting!”

“That certainly puts things in perspective,” Gunter agreed. “You always were a strange child, though.”

“Hah! You spend your life cooped up in a drafty old Fortress and see how ‘strange’ you get,” Corrin laughed.

“I was there, too, milord,” Gunter reminded him. “The entire time.”

“Yes, but you had a life beforehand,” Corrin chuckled. “It doesn’t matter, though. I’m never going back, and to make sure of that we need to survey that fort. Let’s go.”

They proceeded in silence after that, angling for the rope bridges further north. As they walked they were continually struck by the wind and flying grit, and Corrin couldn’t help but admit that Gunter’s description of the Canyon was surprisingly apt. Just looking around he could see that nothing grew within a hundred meters of either side of the canyon, the flat landscape broken only by jagged rock formations seemingly jutting up from the earth at random. The whole area reminded the Prince of a scar, old and refusing to heal.

As they approached the bridges Corrin couldn’t help but laugh.

“We’re not seriously going to cross these, are we?” he asked.

The bridges had seemed rickety from a distance, but up close they appeared to be barely even withstanding the winds of the canyon. Rotten boards, some already broken and missing, extended between old and frayed ropes. Columns of stone dotted this section of the canyon, the rope bridges raised between them, sparse shrubbery and a few bent, misshapen trees decorating their tops. Corrin doubted they would even hold Felicia, the lightest in the group, let alone the heavy Hans or armored Gunter.

“Unless you feel like tryin’ to jump,” Hans muttered, speaking for the first time that day.

Corrin glanced over his shoulder before chuckling and shaking his head.

“Very well, then,” Corrin said, swallowing his fear.

His first few steps out onto the bridge were tentative, his knuckles white around the hip-height rope railings on either side. Surprisingly, though, the boards beneath his feet felt much sturdier than they looked. Across the first bridge he could see a second one extending from one of the columns, and he put all other thoughts except for getting to that flat piece of land seemingly floating in the middle of the void out of his mind. When he was about half across Corrin felt the bridge sway as Felicia started her own crossing, pale and muttering to herself as she moved much quicker than Corrin had, making him chuckle and pick his own pace up.

When he reached the small island Corrin let out a sigh of relief, shaking the tension out of his joints as he waited for the others. Felicia didn’t leave him waiting long, arriving a few moments after him at almost a dead run and latching onto his arm, practically in tears.

“I-I’m s-sorry, mil-lord,” she stammered, shaking. “I just… need a m-moment to… compose myself…”

“Take a moment, then,” Corrin soothed, stroking her shoulder.

He glanced over the top of her, eying the fort. It looked abandoned from a distance, but as they got closer more and more evidence of someone maintaining it became clear. Squinting against the wind and pulling against the almost catatonic Felicia Corrin approached the edge of the small pillar of stone they stood on, trying to get a better look at the fort.

Perhaps it was just a trick of the wind and the lightning, but it looked like there were lights in the fort’s windows…

“Lord Corrin!” Gunter called. “Beware! The bridge!”

Corrin spun, finally detaching Felicia from his arm as he drew his sword. Four shadowy figures were approaching, racing across the bridges closer to the fort. The young prince held up his arm, ushering Felicia back towards the bridge as Gunter and Hans joined them on the pillar. The last thing he needed was a fight in such a tight space, where one misstep could mean their deaths.

“Didn’t the King say that this was supposed to be an abandoned fort?” Gunter mumbled, drawing his own sword.

“Hoshidans?” Felicia asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Corrin answered.

The four men, smaller than Corrin but moving with the same self-assuredness that any soldier had, slowed as they reached the pillar, one stepping forward and pulling the hood of his cloak back. Corrin sucked a breath in as the same type of features that the two prisoners he’d fought glared at him.

“Hold, Nohrians!” the man growled. “Come no further! By crossing this bridge you are in violation of our border treaty!”

Corrin gave a small sigh, a relieved smile flitting across his features as he stepped forward and lowered his sword. If they were willing to talk, willing to listen to reason, then they could just return to Windmire and tell Garon that the fort was still serviceable. The fact that it was apparently full of Hoshidans wasn’t pertinent to the mission parameters, anyway.

“Peace, friends!” he called, lowering his sword. “We mean no offense! We have been sent by-”

A low, rumbling laugh was accompanied by a strike of lightning splitting the sky as thunder cracked in the distance. Hans pushed past a confused Corrin, raising his axe. Before the Prince could react Hans struck, lashing out with his axe and almost cutting the Hoshidan that had spoken in half. The other three drew their swords, but the big warrior was already among them, swinging his weapon and laughing with reckless abandon.

He lashed out with a savage kick, the knee of the closest Hoshidan soldier bending the wrong way with a sickening pop, the man letting out a scream before Hans silenced him by lopping his head from his shoulders. With his backswing he opened a deep gash in the third Hoshidan’s stomach, stepping around the man as he dropped to the ground in a heap. The fourth man actually brought his weapon up, the thin, single-edged sword glinting dully in the weak light as he raised it above his head. Hans’ hand shot out, though, gripping the man by the neck.

“Oh, I love this part of the job,” Hans growled, his face now coated in the blood of his victims.

The Hoshidan gasped as Hans batted his thin sword aside, dropping his own axe in the process. Then, with thick muscles budging, Hans hefted the smaller man by the throat in one meaty hand. With slow, deliberate steps Hans walked past the fallen men, carrying the Hoshidan towards…

“Hans, stop!” Corrin shouted, too late.

With a wicked smile over his shoulder Hans stepped up to the edge of the pillar and held the Hoshidan out over the abyss.

“Oops.”

The Hoshidan’s terrified scream echoed around them as he plummeted into the Bottomless Canyon, even over the howling of the wind. It had all happened so fast that Corrin didn’t even know what to do or how to react. He stared aghast at Hans for the briefest of moments before Gunter pushed past him, the old knight red-faced and furious.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done!?” Gunter thundered.

“I followed my orders, Knight,” Hans spat.

With that the warrior turned and snatched up his axe before he stomped away, towards the bridge. Corrin blinked in shock as more Hoshidans began to flood the edge of the Canyon, pointing and shouting as their compatriots began to surge across the bridges. Hans let out a throaty bellow, screaming some hideous Northern warcry and holding his axe high in challenge as he stepped to meet them.

Gunter looked like he was about to take off after Hans and run him through, but hesitated and looked back to Corrin.

“Lord Corrin, your orders?” the Knight asked over the wind.

Corrin took a deep, calming breath as he looked around. Across the next rope bridge the path split, two bridges separating from the stone pillar. Hans had already reached it, laughing as he batted aside the Hoshidan soldiers that were engaging him. It looked like both bridges would eventually reach the other side of the canyon…

“Gunter, go with Hans,” Corrin ordered. “Bring him back alive. I want to question him about his ‘orders’.”

“Aye, Lord Corrin,” Gunter nodded, turning and racing across the bridges.

Corrin glanced down at the stunned Felicia, the maid looking back at him with wide eyes.

“We’re going to go and find the commander and try and smooth this out,” he explained. “Are you with me, Felicia?”

She took a few deep, shuddering breaths before calming and nodding, a cold expression rising to her face as she prepared herself.

“Always, Lord Corrin,” Felicia said, standing up straight. “I’m not just your maid. I will fight.”

“Good,” Corrin grinned. “Watch my back and don’t take any chances.”

With that he turned, charging across the bridge himself with all fears of falling forgotten now. Felicia stayed at his shoulder, and Corrin could feel the chill of her presence at his back, even through the canyon’s biting winds, as she began to work her ice magic. He slowed as he approached the pillar that Hans and Gunter were fighting on, the armored Knight lingering at the rear and watching the bigger warrior’s back as he held the Hoshidans at bay almost single-handedly, the smaller soldiers more cautions now against the axeman.

Corrin and Felicia turned, angling away as they crossed another of the bridges. In the distance the Prince could see that the Hoshidans were having the same idea as he was, more of the soldiers beginning to pour onto the smaller bridges that he and Felicia were crossing. Corrin cursed, beginning to run faster as he hurried to face them at the next pillar. As they reached the stable rock surface Corrin skidded to a halt, intent on negotiating before things got any more out of hand. The Hoshidans, six of them, continued to surge forward, and as they neared Corrin rose to his full height and called out to them.

“Warriors of Hoshido, hold! We mean you no harm! Please, bring your Commander forward so that we might-”

With a yelp he leapt back, the first of the Hoshidans barely slowing before they leveled their weapons at him. Corrin backpedaled, barely aware of a flash of black and white as Felicia ducked around him, weaving around the Hoshidans’ weapons. She moved with confidence that she lacked at any other time, the maid’s hands a blur as small, razor sharp shards of ice shot out at the Hoshidans, nicking faces and hands and shattering on their armor, forcing them to a halt. Corrin nodded gratefully as he stepped forward again before the Hoshidans could regain their momentum.

“I am Prince Corrin of Nohr, and I demand to see your Commanding Officer!” He thundered, mimicking his father’s imperious tone.

The Hoshidan men hesitated now in the face of what Corrin hoped was his regal bearing, prompting the Prince to take another step forwards.

“We mean no offense!” he insisted. “Please, let me speak to your Commander so that we can stop this violence!”

The Hoshidans shuffled uncertainly as Corrin took another step forward, one of the men in the front finally gathering his courage and raising his sword again. With a shout the Hoshidan rushed Corrin, the Prince batting aside his clumsy blow and smashing the pommel of Ganglari into his temple. The Hoshidan man dropped, unconscious, but this was apparently all the excuse that the others needed. With a shout they all rushed forward at once, Corrin sighing sadly as he stepped forward to meet them.

More shards of ice flashed past him, Felicia striking to unbalance the soldiers while Corrin danced through them, Ganglari like a streak of black lightning in his hands. All of his blows were non-fatal, though; Corrin didn’t need to explain to the enemy Commander why even more of his soldiers were dead.

With Felicia’s help they made short work of the men, and as the last dropped unconscious with a split lip and a broken nose Corrin stepped over them, moving across the bridge. Felicia was right after him, the duo crossing finally to the other side of the Canyon and coming face to face with a line of Hoshidan soldiers. The Prince and the maid slowed, coming to a stop before the soldiers.

“I am the Third Prince of Nohr, and I wish to speak to the Commander!” Corrin shouted. “Bring him forth!”

A ripple went through the Hoshidans at Corrin’s shout, the men and women looking uncertainly between one another before parting as an older man stepped forward, his long hair pulled away from his face and pinned in a sort of folded bun at the crown of his head above a thick black headband.

“I am Commander Omozu,” the old man declared. “What proof do I have that I speak with a Prince?”

Corrin relaxed slightly. At last, he was getting somewhere.

“My word on my honor,” he said. “I come with nothing else.”

“Nothing else but weapons and death,” the Commander spat.

“I swear to you we did not know that this fort was manned,” Corrin said. “We have no quarrel with you or your people.”

“Yet your men still fight and kill my soldiers, even now!” the Commander shouted, pointing to the bridges.

“Hans is not my man and will rot in a cell for his madness. Please, Commander Omozu. Call back your men and we will leave.”

Another scream cut through the ever-present wind as Hans threw more of the Hoshidans into the Canyon, his deranged laughter echoing afterwards. The Hoshidan Commander’s eyes narrowed as he turned his glare back at Corrin.

“Lies and treachery!” Omozu snarled, drawing his sword. “Subdue them! I want this ‘Prince’ alive! Kill the woman!”

Corrin brought Ganglari up again as he and Felicia backed towards the bridge, Omozu’s men coming forward with grim expressions.

“Commander, please!” Corrin pleaded. “It doesn’t have to be-”

“Prince Corrin, prepare yourself,” Felicia said. “I think they’re done talking.”

Corrin grimaced as the first few Hoshidans rushed them, stepping forward to meet them. As before Felicia’s ice shards flew out from behind him, but unlike before they struck with far more accuracy, cutting deep into exposed flesh and faces. Then, as Corrin met the Hoshidans she was at his side, darting and weaving with a small dagger in each hand, a blurred whirlwind of razor sharp shards and knives.

Surprisingly, Corrin found the Hoshidans to be quite weak. He had expected more from Nohr’s old enemy, but the men he faced fell with barely any effort. He simply brushed their weapons aside and Felicia darted in, incapacitating but not killing.

“There’s just two of them!” Omozu roared. “Fools! Must I do everything myself!?”

The Commander tore the cloak from his shoulders, revealing armor of a much higher quality than the rough plates that the other soldiers were wearing. Lacquered red plates covered his chest and arms, far thicker seeming than the regular soldiers. His sword, too, was far sleeker and practically shone in the weak light, it was so highly polished.

Corrin grimaced, stepping forward to meet the enemy commander and motioning for Felicia to watch his back with his free hand. Omozu growled as they closed, his heavy footfalls confident and domineering compared to Corrin’s lighter movements, bringing his sword up in both hands. Corrin darted in low, pushing the older man’s guard up and charging with his shoulder. Omozu snarled as he was thrown back, Corrin spinning and cleaving a deep furrow into his lacquered chest plate.

Omozu glanced over his shoulder, back to the canyon where Hans and Gunter were beginning to cross the bridge before cursing and turning to his subordinates.

“Send for reinforcements immediately!” the Commander snapped. “Call the soldiers still in the fort! And send a message to Lord Ryoma! Nohr is invading!”

“We are not!” Corrin shouted.

The man Omozu spoke to ignored his protests, though, and took off at a dead run back towards the fort. No doubt they had some form of carrier birds to deliver these messages; within hours Hoshido would know that Corrin had inadvertently invaded them.

Any further thoughts were pushed from Corrin’s mind as Omozu rushed him again, striking with lightning speed and precision, displaying a skill far removed from his subordinates. Still, though, Corrin found the man to be moving slowly, as if underwater. With quick, precise strokes Corrin disarmed him, using the flat of his blade to smash him across the face and knock him out cold.

“Save the Commander!”

“Nohrian scum!”

“For Hoshido!”

Corrin glanced up as the waiting soldiers all rushed forward, clearly intent on felling him and saving their commanding officer. He backpedaled, grateful again for Felicia’s intervention as she began to hurl more magical ice shards into the oncoming crowd. He looked past them for a moment, a sinking feeling taking hold of his chest as more soldiers began to pour out of the fort, and shook his head.

“Pull back, back to the bridge,” Corrin said to Felicia. “Make for the first pillar. We can bottleneck them until we figure out when to escape. Go!”

With Corrin’s shout they both turned and started to run, Felicia throwing up one last sheet of ice shards to dissuade any pursuit. They pounded across the swaying rope bridge, Corrin almost losing his balance a number of times before the familiar hard rock of the pillar was under their feet again. He turned, expecting to see the Hoshidans right behind them, only to be brought up short.

They hadn’t even attempted to cross yet, instead fighting desperately as two wyverns descended on them, the two women atop them tearing into the Hoshidan soldiers.

“Camilla?” Corrin wondered aloud, squinting in the wind.

His eldest sister and her retainer Beruka had dropped out of the sky and were holding the bridge alone, their wyverns snarling and snapping at any Hoshidans that the two women missed. Corrin was brought up short by the terrifying look of wrathful rage on Camilla’s face, her usually gentle features twisted in a scowling countenance he’d never seen on her before.

So distracted by the image of his gentle older sister ripping her axe through Hoshidan soldiers Corrin jumped when someone clapped a heavy, armored hand on his shoulder.

“Go,” Xander said, smiling down at him. “We’ll hold them off until you escape and catch up. Go.”

With that the Crown Prince stepped past him, drawing his longsword and charging across the bridge. Laslow and an armored Peri followed him, the steel-haired man giving Corrin a reassuring wink while she snarled, the light of mad bloodlust flashing in her eyes. Selena was with them, too, the red-haired woman giving Corrin an unreadable look before rushing to join her mounted liege and partner on the other side of the Canyon.

“I’d say this is a good position. Corrin, what are you still doing? Xander told you to get clear.”

The young Prince turned to see Leo leading both of his retainers, Elise and her own retainers onto the small pillar.

“Looks like we were just in time,” Leo said with a small grin. “Your luck just never seems to run out, does it?”

“Effie, Arthur! Help Xander and Camilla!” Elise ordered.

“Right,” Effie grunted, hefting her lance and shield and taking off across the bridge.

“For justice!” Arthur cried, following.

“How did you know we were in trouble?” Corrin asked.

“I did some research, and when we figured out where Hans was leading you…” Leo trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s not important. We can talk later. Get clear.”

Niles ignored everyone, moving to the lip of the pillar and unslinging a thin bow from his back. The one-eyed retainer shook out his neck, nocking an arrow and firing with barely a glance, a Hoshidan crumpling as the arrow hit home. Odin stepped up next to the archer, his hands glowing with eldritch magical energies as he began to chant at the top of his lungs.

“He can never just do it quietly,” Leo sighed, before turning to Corrin. “Go. You’re in the way.”

“We can handle this,” Elise promised, holding her healing staff to her chest.

Corrin hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Leo, they’ve sent a messenger to their leader,” he warned. “They think this was the start of an invasion.”

The younger prince cursed under his breath before nodding as well.

“So get going,” he said. “The longer you’re here, the longer we have to be here and the harder it becomes to explain all of this away. You’re safe and the fort’s been evaluated. We don’t have any reason to engage the Hoshidans further at this point.”

Corrin nodded back before turning a grateful smile on Elise, spinning and racing back across the closest bridge.

“We have to get to Gunter and Hans first! Then we can retreat!” he called back to Felicia without looking, trusting that the maid was still at his shoulder.

Panting as he ran, Corrin reached the central pillar and turned, racing along the bridges until he was within shouting distance of the other two.

“Gunter! Hans! We’re leaving! Fall back!”

Gunter turned instantly at the sound of his Lord’s voice, but Hans snarled at the encroaching Hoshidans, lashing out again with his axe.

“Hans!” Corrin roared.

The big man did turn this time, the bloodlust in his eyes making Corrin shudder as he and Gunter backed away from the enemy. Judging from the terrified looks and lack of movement, it was clear that the Hoshidans had no intention of following. The old Knight reached Corrin first, warily eying the reticent Hoshidans as Hans actively sneered at them.

“Are you done?” Gunter asked. “Is the mission complete? What of the enemy?”

“Xander and the others have come to watch our retreat,” Corrin said quickly. “The fort is serviceable, but we’ll need to drive the Hoshidans out first, and we don’t have the manpower for it right now, so we’re retreating.”

“A wise decision,” Gunter said, nodding approvingly. “With this mission complete-”

“No. Mission’s not complete. Not yet.”

They both turned to question Hans’ statement, but the old Knight only managed a half-turn before he was lifted from his feet. Corrin’s eyes went wide as Gunter’s face went slack, the man that had been like a father to him flying through the air and off of the pillar, into the canyon beneath them.

And then he was gone.

Hans’ laughter tore through the howling wind like a knife through Corrin’s heart, the young Prince still staring disbelievingly at the space that his Retainer had been occupying up until a few seconds ago. Then it all came crashing down at once, and Corrin felt Ganglari’s grip creak in protest beneath his tightening fist. His teeth ground together as he turned on Hans, his ally, a man hand-picked by his father.

A man he had trusted.

And the man that had just killed the closest thing Corrin had ever had to a real parent.

“Why!? What could you possibly gain from this!? Answer me!?”

The words ripped from Corrin’s throat, and finally Hans stopped laughing and turned his murderous gaze on the prince. He took a big, heavy step towards Corrin, Gunter’s blood still running from the blade of his axe. When he spoke Hans’ voice was a low growl, full of expectation and delight.

“Less talk, more death,” the murderer said.

Corrin roared wordlessly, raising the sword that the King had given him and stepping to meet Hans. The bigger man’s grin widened as he brought his axe up, sparks flashing as the two weapons collided. Corrin gnashed his teeth, striking harder and faster than he ever had before, intent on killing and avenging Gunter’s death. Even against Xander, who required all of his skill and focus to match, Corrin had never thrown his reserve to the wind like this. He’d never simply tried to kill before.

But Hans matched him, blow for blow, neither managing to score a hit, until Corrin leapt back, panting. The bigger man chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

“Gotta admit, for a runt you fight good.”

“Shut up!” Corrin snarled.

“Too bad the old man didn’t,” Hans continued with a cruel laugh. “I didn’t even get a decent scream out of him in the end.”

Finally, something inside of Corrin snapped. Some small part of him, a piece that he didn’t know had existed, finally let go. A part of his soul turned black, broken by Hans’ wanton cruelty.

With a mighty roar Corrin stomped his foot, feeling bone and sinew in his body shift and change. Pain, like fire in his veins, shot through him as he trembled, his body tensing to the point he thought he would be crushed under his own self, before his gaze snapped back up.

Hans’ smug grin finally fell from his face, the light of fear in his eyes now.

“What the hell are you…?” the axeman breathed, involuntarily taking a step back.

Corrin snarled again around a mouthful of fangs, his teeth growing and becoming razor points as his eyes flashed red. His gauntlets split, the ruined metal falling off his changed hands, more claws now than fingers, each digit ending in a wicked talon. There was a burning ache in his back as he felt something expand beneath his armor, restrained and broken beneath the thick plates. Absently he noted that his boots had done the same as his gauntlets, and when he stepped forward he felt the cold, smooth stone beneath the bottoms of his feet. The Prince snarled again, the words coming out clearer now.

“Hans! Murderer! I’ll kill you!”

On instinct Corrin raised Ganglari, poised to strike Hans and cleave him in two. But as he tried to bring the sword down he found he couldn’t. And not for lack of trying. His muscles bulged and the tendons in his neck stood out as he put all of his effort into bringing the sword down, intent on punishing Gunter’s murderer.

Hans’ shocked look changed quickly to relief, then back to his smug grin.

“He was right,” the axeman sighed. “Guess Daddy finds me more useful than you, eh runt?”

Corrin turned to look up at the sword, his face going slack as he saw that the blade was glowing a deep, baleful purple. Worse, though, was the strange circular design set into the hilt. It had opened, and a glowering slit-pupiled yellow eye stared down at him from the sword.

“What-“ was as far as Corrin got.

A new pain exploded in his chest, yet this pain was familiar to him. He glanced down, eyes travelling up Hans’ axe from where it protruded from his armor and up to the grinning madman that had just buried it in his chest. Before Corrin could finish he found himself lifted up and flying through the air, and he watched as Hans’ smug face grew smaller and smaller before disappearing, replaced only by the howling of the wind in his ears.

And he realized that he was falling into the canyon, just as Gunter had.

Corrin gasped, gripping his wounded ribs with his free hand. When he pulled it away the hand was slick with blood, more of his vitae coating his armor now. Refusing to give into panic Corrin looked around, intent on finding something, anything to arrest his fall.

He threw out his feet, turning himself over in the air and desperately attempting to jam Ganglari into the face of the rock pillar he had fallen from, but all he succeeded in doing was bouncing himself further out into the void.

Corrin groaned, blood loss beginning to make him dizzy. Shaking his head to try and clear the haze from it Corrin looked around again, feeling despair begin to well up in his soul.

There had to be something he could do.

He couldn’t die like this.

Not when there was so much he still needed to do.

He had to go back, to Windmire, and explain himself. He had to apologize to the Hoshidans, to avert the war before it could start. He had to spend more time with his family now that he was free of the Northern Fortress.

He had to serve the people of Nohr.

The people that needed him.

He couldn’t die.

Not like this.

“Not like this!” Corrin roared defiantly.

The fire beneath his skin returned, his chest and back plates flying off as he felt himself changing again.

As darkness began to take him he realized he was no longer falling, but rising upwards now.

However, before he could begin to question this Corrin found himself tumbling to the cold earth, gasping as his wounds were jarred, and finally his consciousness sunk into oblivion.


	7. Chapter 7

Felicia rose slowly, shaking the stars out of her eyes as she desperately tried to remember what had happened.

She’d… tripped. Fallen while she was following Corrin back across the canyon, not paying attention to where her feet were landing and catching her toes on a rock.

Groaning and gingerly bringing her hand to her throbbing nose she gave a slight gasp, her fingers coming away wet with blood. Clearly she’d landed on her face hard. How long she had been unconscious for she didn’t know.

She couldn’t let Corrin see her like this…

Shaking her head again, she forcer her groggy mind clear.

Where was Corrin?

Where were his brothers and sisters, and where were Hans and Gunter?

She squinted against the wind, shuddering as thunder boomed above her and lighting split the sky. There, on the opposite side of the canyon, the light reflecting off of Hoshidan armor caught her eye. It wasn’t safe for her to remain there, but something on the other side of the canyon had caught her eye. A figure, apart from the rest. A muscular form bending down to inspect something on the ground before hoisting it up onto their back.

Lighting flashed again, accompanied by more thunder. A few drops of rain began to patter down on the stone around Felicia, the raindrops stinging where they hit her bruised face.

However this all went unnoticed by the maid, a knife of fear drove itself into her heart as the lightning illuminated the lone form’s burden. Prince Corrin, unconscious and head lolling, was being taken by the Hoshidans.

Scrambling to her feet and struggling not to hyperventilate, Felicia took stock of the situation. Corrin was being taken prisoner. Between her and him were an entire garrison’s worth of Hoshidan soldiers, no doubt reinforced now from their own capital. She’d never be able to fight her way through them, but if she were fast she could catch up with the other Princes and Princesses, warn them, and maybe as a group they could storm the fort and save Corrin together.

Her mind made up Felicia turned away from the canyon, heart wrenching at the thought of leaving Corrin behind for even a second, and began to run back towards Nohr.

Fortunately it appeared that Corrin’s brothers and sisters hadn’t gone far, setting up a small camp away from the canyon to take shelter from the rain, which had quickly become a downpour. Felicia guessed she must have looked frightful, soaked to the skin, hair and clothes disheveled, blood running down her face. But the thought of Corrin in Hoshidan hands spurred her on, until she at last came upon the retainer Laslow, standing sentry for the royals out in the rain with a miserable expression on his face.

“Miss Felicia?” he asked curiously. “What are you doing here? We thought you had gone ahead with Lord Corrin’s party.”

Felicia shook her head, gasping for breath and struggling not to double over.

“C-Corrin’s been captured!” she practically screamed.

*

As Corrin woke he did so slowly, reluctantly. More-so than usual. Everything hurt. It felt like he’d been doing another marathon training session with Gunter, like he had when he’d been a boy and the Knight had still been…

Corrin bolted into a sitting position, hissing in pain as he held his ribs.

Gunter had been thrown into the canyon.

“G-Gunter!? Gunter!? Felicia!?” he called, looking around the strange room.

With another pained hiss he slowly climbed to his feet, examining his surroundings. A polished wooden floor beneath him, strange, paneled walls that seemed to have some form of paper fixed to them as decoration. The ceiling was high, naked joists holding up what appeared to be a tiled roof. Beneath him was a strange, thin mattress with a thick blanket atop of it that he’d been sleeping in. In the center of the room was a hearth, cold as if not having been used. Corrin blinked at the strange architecture, stumbling over to one of the walls and reaching out to steady himself. He felt the wall give a little and pulled back. The walls weren’t covered in paper. They were made out of paper.

“What in the hells…” he murmured.

The prince glanced down at himself, naked except for his tattered pants and the thick bandages around his middle. He winced as he probed at the bandages, recalling the way Hans had hacked into him. But the pain in his memory was muted, as if it had happened years ago. Smirking, Corrin figured that sometimes his strange malady was good for something, at least. No doubt the wound would leave yet another scar, though.

One of the sections of wall slid to the side, revealing a familiar scowling face as Corrin turned to it.

“Stop shouting,” the Hoshidan woman Rinkah spat. “It’s still early. You’ll wake the whole damn village up.”

Corrin blinked a few times, trying to see if he was hallucinating her outlandish attire or not. She stepped into the room, tying off a strip of cloth around her hand. Both arms were wrapped to the elbows in the cloths, and she wore a pair of loose trousers, but no shoes. Or top, for that matter, her breasts covered in more of the cloth wrapping. At first Corrin worried she’d been wounded at some stage, too, and was covered in bandages but as she crossed the room to him her movements were a clear indication that she was fine.

What really brought the Prince up short, though, was the perfect, chiseled abdominals that the Hoshidan had on display. Corrin was fit, far fitter than many he was sure. But he’d never seen abs like that, least of all on a woman. Even Xander, who could run rings around him, didn’t have a stomach like that. Even her shoulders and arms, now visible without the rags she’d been forced to wear in Nohr, were far more muscular than his own.

Before Corrin could object Rinkah was at his side, roughly putting his arm over her shoulders and half-dragging him out of the room.

“Wh-where are we…” he managed to rasp, realizing just how thirsty he was.

“The kitchen,” Rinkah said gruffly.

Neither of them said any more as Rinkah dragged Corrin through the strange building, down a long and dark hallway similar to his room. He barely noticed, numb with the sensation of loss.

Gunter was gone. There was no way anyone could survive that fall, especially not if the Canyon was bottomless.

But, Corrin thought with a small glimmer of hope, hadn’t he survived?

Rinkah kicked another sliding section of wall to the side, revealing a kitchen area outside of the main building. They descended a set of low steps into a covered area, and she set him down on the lowest step before moving to a large cooking stove at the edge of the kitchen. She returned after a few moments, placing a small wooden bowl the size of a cup into his hands. Outside, past the open kitchen, Corrin could see the dark, cloudy sky, a few raindrops falling. In the distance he could see the smoke rising from other cooking fires, and further away he could see the glistening white tops of the nearby mountains. As they stepped outside their breath fogged in front of their faces, the mist from Rinkah’s exhales so thick it was almost smoke.  

“Drink,” she said. “It’s soup. It’ll make you feel better.”

Corrin did as he was told, taking a few tentative sips. The soup was a cloudy, pale green colour, but was actually quite tasty, if a little too hot. He found himself feeling nostalgic as he sipped, Rinkah waiting in silence, leaning with her shoulder against the wall of the building they had just come out of and watching disinterestedly.

“Where are we?” Corrin asked when his throat wasn’t as parched as before.

“The Flame Tribe Village,” Rinkah stated. “In the Northern Hoshido Mountains.”

Corrin went still for a moment before sighing and lowering his cup-bowl.

“So I’m your prisoner, then?” he asked without looking up.

“Seems that way,” Rinkah answered.

“What will you do with me?”

Rinkah sighed, a harsh sound as she blew air through her nose, and moved to stand in front of Corrin. The Prince glanced up at her, surprised to see a distasteful frown on her face. After a moment, he realized that the markings on her cheeks he’d taken for tattoos when they had first met were gone, too.

“I’m going to take you South, to Shirasagi,” she explained. “Our Chieftain has decided to give you to the Hoshidans as a token of goodwill. There’s a storm to the south, though, and it is too dangerous to travel through the mountains. An envoy from Hoshido is supposed to be meeting us but has been delayed. We will leave as soon as it clears and he arrives.”

“You don’t seem too happy about that,” Corrin pointed out.

“I just got home,” Rinkah spat. “I’m in no great hurry to leave again. Besides… no, never mind. Give me that.”

She snatched the empty bowl out of Corrin’s hands, moving to the stove to refill it.

“I thought you were Hoshidan?” Corrin called after her.

Rinkah snorted as she poured a second bowl of soup for herself, rejoining Corrin at the stairs.

“The Flame Tribe is independent,” she explained. “Not that you can tell, these days. Drink. You need to regain your strength. You’ve been unconscious for a week now.”

Corrin went to take another sip of the oddly familiar soup, hesitating when what she said sunk in.

“A week?” Corrin asked slowly. “I’ve been out for a week?”

“I only just said as much,” Rinkah snorted.

“Yes, and she barely left your side for the entire week.”

Rinkah grimaced at the new voice, Corrin jumping a little and glancing over his shoulder.  A large, bald man of late middle age stood in the doorway, grinning down at the Prince. He wore no shirt, but similar black trousers to the ones that Rinkah wore. At his hip was what appeared to be a large gourd, and he rested his hand on it as he stepped around Corrin and out into the kitchen.

“Chieftain,” Rinkah greeted, hostility radiating from her.

“My daughter is shy,” the man chuckled. “I am Kumagera, Chieftain of this tribe. And you must be Prince Corrin of Nohr.”

“I am,” Corrin said, standing.

Kumagera studied Corrin for a moment, looking him up and down before nodding in satisfaction and stepping up to the Prince.

“It is a pleasure to receive you, Prince of Nohr,” Kumagera said as he slapped Corrin on the back. “We do not get many outsiders here in our village. Please enjoy our hospitality until the weather passes. Rinkah will continue to take care of you until then.”

“She took care of me before?” Corrin asked, casting a glance at the surly woman.

“Of course!” Kumagera laughed. “We couldn’t well let you die, not when she owes her life to you! We couldn’t get her to leave you alone either, and we tried! She even lay with you at night so you didn’t get cold!”

“Chieftain!” Rinkah snapped. “Haven’t you got work to do!?”

Kumagera laughed, a deep, throaty sound as he doubled over with both hands on his stomach. Rinkah seethed, blushing up to her ears and refusing to meet Corrin’s gaze as she glared at her father.

“Get him cleaned up, and then bring him to Ikoshi,” the older man laughed. “He stinks to the high heavens!”

“I… can hear you,” Corrin muttered.

“Good!” Kumagera chuckled as he stepped back into the house. “At least we know your ears are still working!”

They stood in silence for a moment, staring at the space that the boisterous chieftain had just vacated, before Corrin’s legs began to tremble and he had to sit back down. Rinkah sighed, snatching his empty bowl away again and refilling it a second time.

While she was gone Corrin gave himself a quick, curious sniff, reeling back as he did so. He’d smelled bad before, especially after particularly strenuous training sessions, but he didn’t remember himself ever smelling quite like this. A sour, sickly sweet aroma emanated from him, stronger near his midsection. A combination of medicinal herbs and a tangier, underlying scent that couldn’t be described other than he stank like sickness.

“I’d like to bathe,” Corrin said when Rinkah returned, his voice tired.

“I will take you to my Tribe’s healer,” she said, sounding quite tired herself. “Then we will go and bathe at the springs to the west of the village.”

Corrin nodded, gratefully accepting his third bowl of the infuriatingly familiar soup.

“What’s this soup called?” he finally asked.

“Miso,” Rinkah grunted.

Corrin nodded again, sipping from his bowl. He’d have to get the recipe. No doubt Elise and Leo would love to try it.

*

About an hour later Corrin found himself looking up at an impressive wooden shrine of some sort, a raised building like all the others in the village they had passed, but far grander than even Kumagera’s house.

The Flame Tribe village itself was quiet as they had wandered through it, due no doubt to the miserable weather, but people still went about their daily business. Corrin spotted farmers out tending fields in the distance, while numerous times they had passed the fires of blacksmith’s forges, the rhythmic clanking of smithies working sounding from within. Corrin was surprised at how peaceful the village felt, despite the rising tensions between the two nations. But, if what Rinkah had said was true, the Flame Tribe had nothing to fear if Hoshido went to war with Nohr. Not if they weren’t aligned with the larger nation. How long their neutrality would last if open hostilities broke out Corrin couldn’t guess, but still…

“How long are you going to stand there staring at it?” Rinkah growled.

Muttering a quick apology to the woman, Corrin shifted his weight on her shoulder and they began to walk towards the temple again. After only about five minutes he’d been forced to accept her help in walking through the town, draping one arm across her shoulders and letting her take his weight as they travelled. She had done so without a word of complaint, but Corrin would have been a fool to miss the way her brow had wrinkled when she’d caught a whiff of his offensive scent, and it had made him blush furiously in embarrassment.

“So is there a healer here?” Corrin asked to try and ease the mood.

Rinkah grunted and nodded.

Corrin wasn’t surprised by this revelation; after all, the clerics and healers of Nohr were mostly servants of the Dusk Dragon’s temples and cathedrals. It made sense that the Hoshidan healers would worship their equivalent.

The temple was raised off the ground nearly two feet, a wide staircase leading to a balcony that wrapped around the entirety of the building that Corrin could see. More of the strange wood-framed-paper panels sat in sections of wooden walls, a wide tiled roof extending out to cover the balcony. A large chimney extended from the otherwise perfect roof, though, and as Corrin and Rinkah got closer the air around the temple became hotter and dryer. Just inside of the doorway was a wooden partition board, a dancing flame pattern painted delicately onto it.

Rinkah finally set him down at the top of the steps to the temple, glaring at him for a moment.

“Wait here,” she grunted before disappearing inside.

Corrin sat in silence for a few moments, curiously looking closer at the temple as his back was assailed by the heat from within, before Rinkah returned leading what could only be the shrine’s priestess. A thin, older woman with thin grey hair followed Rinkah out of the temple, a wry half-smile on her face. Her white and red robes were sleeveless, and her feet were wrapped in more of the bindings Rinkah was wearing instead of socks or shoes. However, as she got closer Corrin realized why Rinkah was leading the woman; her eyes were milky white and unseeing. The priestess was blind.

“What stinks?” the old woman asked without preamble.

“Your patient,” Rinkah said, a hint of laughter in her gruff voice.

The woman barked a harsh laugh, shaking her head.

“This is the boy you brought me a week ago?” she said. “I told you to change his dressings.”

“That’s what you’re here for,” Rinkah shrugged. “He’s heavy. It was too much work.”

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you,” Corrin said, slowly rising to his feet and casting a weak glare at Rinkah.

“Oh! He’s awake this time!” the priestess said. “Well I’ll be. I thought he’d be out for another few days at the least, with a wound like that. Color me impressed, child.”

“I’m Corrin,” he said, stepping up to the balcony now.

The Prince didn’t miss the way that Rinkah shifted to block his access to the temple itself, but chose to ignore her.

“I am Ikoshi,” the priestess said. “Although most of the villagers these days just call me grandmother. Come. Sit. Let me tend to the wounds your guardian ignored.”

“He’s fine,” Rinkah pouted, crossing her arms.

Corrin did as he was instructed, crouching down before sitting cross-legged. Unnervingly, Ikoshi knelt down, too, sitting on her haunches directly before Corrin, her movements not matching the Prince’s thoughts of someone unable to see. With practiced, deft hands the priestess removed Corrin’s bandages, her nose wrinkling as she did so.

“Bah, girl, I told you to air this wound,” Ikoshi spat. “At least it doesn’t smell infected. Bring me my staff.”

Rinkah grunted again before disappearing into the shrine, leaving Corrin alone with the old priestess.

“You have no qualms about treating a Nohrian Prince?” he asked curiously.

Ikoshi paused for a moment before smiling at him.

“Are you wounded?” she asked.

“Yes?” Corrin answered uncertainly.

“Then my duty is clear, be you Nohrian Prince or Hoshidan peasant. A healer heals the wounded, boy, regardless of where they’re from.”

Corrin nodded, dumbstruck by the old woman’s altruism. Her fingers brushed over his body as she inspected his wounds, making small humming sounds as she brushed over the multitude of scars on his flank before gently prodding at his wound, making him grimace and suck in a pained breath through clenched teeth.

“Oh hush,” Ikoshi chuckled. “Are you a man or not?”

The Prince smirked a little as Rinkah reappeared, holding a thin, curious staff in her hands. It had strange, flowing paper hanging down from its head, but aside from that it was easily distinguishable as a healing staff. Ikoshi held up her hand without turning and a stone-faced Rinkah handed it to her before stepping back and crossing her arms again, watching indifferently.

To his surprise, though, Ikoshi began to chant softly. It wasn’t a familiar chant, like that of a spell, though; it sounded reverent and serene, like a prayer. Almost like a song.

A gentle smile rose to Corrin’s lips as the familiar embrace of healing magic enveloped him, surrounding and permeating his body. Of course, the pleasant sensations were soon overridden by the feeling of his open side knitting itself back together, but the Prince managed to maintain his dignity and remain silent this time. Ikoshi must have been quite the healer, too, as within a matter of moments all that was left of Corrin’s injury was a nasty scar and a familiar lingering ache.

“And there you are, my boy,” Ikoshi sighed. “Good as new.”

Corrin nodded, letting out a breath and muttering his thanks as he stood and carefully twisted his body, testing the healing. A familiar twinge of lingering pain was all that met his efforts, no resistance at all. The Prince glanced up at Rinkah, still looking on disinterestedly.

“Is there somewhere I can do some training around here?”

*

Corrin whirled and spun, the wooden training sword dancing in his hands as he worked the cobwebs from his stiff and tired limbs.

Rinkah had led him to a square of packed earth, back near Kumagera’s house, and tossed the wooden sword to him. Wasting no time and ignoring the light icy rain that fell on his bare shoulders Corrin set about running the drills Xander and Gunter had beaten into him over the years.

With a snarl Corrin flipped sideways, bringing his sword down in a particularly advanced and brutal technique that Gunter had shown him, imagining the wooden sword cutting deep into Hans’ chest.

He would pay. As soon as Corrin was back in Nohr, as soon as he finished explaining himself to the Hoshidans, Hans would pay with his life.

The Prince stopped, allowing his aching muscles to cool off for a moment as he caught his breath. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of someone else entering the training ground, Rinkah looking at him expectantly. She was resting a wooden club, similar to the one she’d wielded in Nohr, on one shoulder, leaving no doubt to her intentions.

“Going to beat your prisoner now?” Corrin asked, his voice a little harsher than he intended.

Rinkah just grinned, smearing two red lines of war-paint beneath her eyes with the edge of her thumb.

“If he doesn’t defend himself,” she said. “I want a chance to redeem my pride.”

Corrin nodded, turning to face her fully and saluting her with his wooden sword.

“Very well, then,” he declared. “Then the Third Prince of Nohr accepts your challenge, Rinkah of the Flame Tribe.”

The woman didn’t say anything more, her grin only growing as they began to circle each other. Corrin could see, now, the way her body moved; tight and coiled, like a snake about to strike. She was clearly just like him, having trained every day for most of her life for one purpose alone. War.

With a guttural war cry Rinkah threw herself forward, bringing the heavier club down at Corrin’s head. He sidestepped easily, reeling back when Rinkah’s foot connected soundly with his hip. Only years of training and instinct had made him pull away from the blow meant for his stomach, catching it on the bone instead. She hissed, hopping back and glaring at him. She was faster, now, and far more agile. Corrin reassessed just how dangerous the Flame Tribe woman was as they squared off again.

He was the first one to move this time, stepping forward and feinting high before stabbing at her shoulder. Rinkah just grinned again, slapping the blade away with the palm of her hand and charging with her shoulder, forcing Corrin back this time. They began circling each other again, Corrin panting heavier than he expected. Clearly he was unfit after a week unconscious.

“If this were a real sword you’d have lost your hand,” Corrin pointed out between gasps.

Rinkah shook her head, still grinning.

“Not a Hoshidan one,” she almost purred. “They are made with a single blade. Easy to deflect if the angle is right.”

“And if it were a double-edged Nohrian blade?” Corrin persisted.

“Then I’d learn to fight one-handed,” Rinkah shrugged.

After a moment the woman sighed and relaxed her posture, casting a withering glare at Corrin.

“This is useless unless you are at full strength,” she spat. “There is no challenge in beating you like this. No honor.”

“I thought I was doing okay,” Corrin laughed.

Rinkah’s sour face went blank for a moment before she chuckled and grinned, resting her club on her shoulder again.

“I want to face your true might with my own, Nohrian Princeling,” she said, her tone softer. “Until I do, I will not be satisfied.”

Corrin relaxed now, too, grinning and shaking his head.

“Give me two weeks,” he said. “Two weeks and I’ll beat the hell out of you at full strength again. And in the meantime, you could try calling me by name.”

Rinkah frowned again, but the expression didn’t hold the disdain it had before.

“Very well, Corrin,” she said, saying his name slowly as if tasting a food for the first time.

“Well met, Rinkah,” he said, wiping the wet hair from his grinning face before holding his hand out to her.

She actually turned and spat, ignoring the sodden locks in her own face before stepping forward and accepting the outstretched hand. After a few moments they stepped back, Corrin giving an involuntary shiver.

“Now, what do you have in the manner of bathing facilities here in the Flame Tribe?” he asked. “I’m going to catch my death in this rain.”

*

Corrin let out a contented groan as he submerged himself up to the neck in the natural pool of steaming water Rinkah had led him to, feeling the stress and fatigue melting away.

They had travelled about fifteen minutes out of the village and towards the mountains, following a paved stone pathway and stairs before coming to the hot springs. Corrin had disrobed almost immediately, eager to feel the warmth of a bath again after so long spent camping. Thoughts of camping brought him back to how he had managed to get into this particular mess, before his train of thought arrived back at Gunter’s murder…

A small splash from a few feet away interrupted his melancholy thoughts before they could gain any purchase in his mind as Rinkah sank into the water too, letting out a sigh similar to the one Corrin had.

Blushing furiously Corrin spun away from her.

Did the people of the Flame Tribe have no shame!? He had expected her to go to another spring close by, one for women, not join him!

“What in the Dusk Dragon’s sacred name are you doing!?” he spluttered.

“Soaking?” Rinkah shot back. “Ahh, that stings... You think my cuts will heal faster here? I hope so...”

“Maybe!? Why… you… what!?”

“What is your problem?” Rinkah snapped. “Baths are meant to be relaxing!”

“Why did you get into the bath with me!?” Corrin asked.

“Because we came here to bathe!”

“Together!?”

“There’s only one spring here!”

Corrin took a deep, steadying breath.

“Is this… normal here?”

“What are you talking about?” Rinkah sighed. “You expected me to let you have the entire spring to yourself, is that it?”

“N-no!” Corrin said hastily. “I’ve just… it’s just…”

“Then shut up and enjoy the water,” Rinkah said, an air of finality in her voice.

There was splashing from behind Corrin as she got comfortable, another long, relaxed sigh sounding over his shoulder. Risking a glance behind him Corrin realized that Rinkah was actually wearing a towel to hide herself as she bathed, both arms and the back of her head resting on the lip of the pool, her eyes closed. Corrin let out a breath of his own, still facing away but willing himself to relax, too. They stayed like that, enjoying the water for a time before Rinkah finally spoke again.

“You have a lot of scars,” she said.

Corrin glanced over his shoulder again to see the Flame Tribe woman studying his back intently.

“My training was very vigorous,” he said quietly.

“Your training?” Rinkah grunted disbelievingly. “Are you telling me you’ve never seen battle before?”

“Before the fight at the canyon, no,” Corrin sighed.

“And yet you fight like an ogre,” she said, almost bitterly.

“Like I said,” Corrin repeated with a sad grin. “My training was vigorous.”

“I can only imagine what kind of monster you’ll become once you gain some actual experience,” Rinkah sighed.

There was the sound of disturbed water behind him, and Corrin glanced back again to see Rinkah climbing out of the spring. His gaze lingered on her toned, muscular legs as she walked back to the baskets they had left their clothes in, holding up a bundle for Corrin.

“Here,” she grunted. “Change into these.”

*

Corrin fidgeted in his new clothes as Rinkah led him back to the Flame Tribe village; clean black trousers and an open black vest, showing off the pale and scarred skin of his chest. Fortunately the vest covered the pink welt of scar tissue that had been Hans’ parting gift; that was a story he wasn’t quite ready to tell others yet, and he didn’t need them asking about it.

At some point the rain had stopped, but the chill persisted, making Corrin wonder what had happened to his cape.

As they passed through the village Corrin realized that there were more people around than there had been in the morning, no doubt returning home after working during the day, but they gave him and Rinkah a wide berth, some even going so far as to glare at him as they passed.

“I don’t seem to be particularly popular,” he muttered.

Rinkah snorted, grinning at him from the corner of her eye.

“You are an outsider,” she explained. “And you’re Nohrian.”

“Ah, double-whammy,” Corrin chuckled, shaking his head.

As they walked they passed a mother leading her two small children. They stared up at Corrin not with the mistrust that the adults had all showed, but instead with undisguised curiosity. The Prince gave them a warm smile, rewarded when the two children, a boy and a girl, smiled back. This was short lived, the mother moving to hurry them along and shooting Corrin a particularly vicious glare before disappearing between two of the buildings.

Corrin chuckled sadly, shaking his head. Rinkah had watched on silently, not saying anything.

When they arrived back at Kumagera’s house Rinkah kicked off the boots she’d been wearing before tossing a rag to Corrin, who had been walking around barefoot all day.

“Clean your feet before coming in,” she said.

Corrin scoffed, doing as he was told before stepping up into the house.

“I had a pair of boots made for you to travel in, but they were not ready yet,” Rinkah said, leading him down the same long hallway they had used that morning.

A low table had already been set up in the room, piled high with roasted meat and a great bowl of some form of cooked grains. A trio of green bottles sat on the table as well, full of what Corrin wasn’t sure. His stomach growled at the sight of the food, reminding him about how hungry he was now that he was healed.

“It’s fine,” Corrin said. “The earth here, it’s soft. It’s not like the stony, sharp ground back in Nohr.”

The warrior led him to the same room he had woken up in before turning back to the hallway and sliding the outer wall away to reveal a charming view of the nighttime village. Cool air blew into the room as Rinkah rejoined him, almost throwing herself into a sitting position next to the table. Corrin sunk down to the ground, sitting cross-legged again and eyeing the food. 

Rinkah didn’t hesitate, picking up a large chuck of roasted something and taking a huge bite, tearing with her jaw and chewing. Corrin moved a little more cautiously, picking a smaller piece and lifting the meat to his face with two fingers. He gave it a cursory sniff before taking an experimental bite, finding the venison to be perfectly cooked. Using her hands Rinkah took great scoops of the steaming grains, shoveling them into her mouth before going back to her meat.

It was quite the spectacle, in Corrin’s opinion. At least she appeared to be enjoying her meal.

“Eat,” Rinkah grunted, seeing that he’d stopped. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

“You don’t have any… plates? Utensils?” Corrin asked hesitantly.

“Bah, just eat,” Rinkah spat, taking another great heap of the grains with her bare hands.

“I don’t even know what I’m eating,” he chuckled.

Rinkah groaned and rolled her eyes, pointing to the different dishes.

“Deer. Rice. Those are pickled daikon. And the bottles are a local liquor.”

Corrin shrugged, taking a scoop of the rice grains himself and trying a bite. The grains were either boiled or steamed, and were soft. With renewed vigor Corrin cleared them from his hand before taking another, larger scoop. Rinkah grinned as he started to eat, reaching over and grabbing one of the bottles. She tore the cork out of it with her teeth before tipping the end up and taking a long drink. When she finished she sighed contentedly before throwing her head back and letting out a mighty belch.

Corrin flinched back from the table as a small jet of flames flew out of Rinkah’s mouth with her belch, a grin on the warrior’s face as she beheld Corrin’s shock.

“What was that?” he asked incredulously.

“Flame Tribe,” Rinkah shrugged, reaching for another cut of meat.

Corrin simply shook his head, reaching for one of the bottles and pulling the cork out. A strange, pungent smell wafted up to him from the open bottle, some form of local alcohol no doubt. He was no stranger to wine or ale, but Gunter had seen to it that he not have access to any stronger spirits. With a growl Corrin quashed thoughts of his late mentor by upending the bottle himself, letting the harsh liquor wash down his throat.

He had to remind himself that he wasn’t in Nohr anymore, and that the customs of other lands were different to his own. Just because she was different didn’t make Rinkah or the Flame Tribe barbarians.

The rest of the dinner passed uneventfully, or as uneventful as dinner with someone with the table-manners of a barbarian could, anyway. Corrin was shocked by the idea that everyone in the Flame Tribe ate like Rinkah, but she’d said something along the lines of ‘the Flame Tribe digs into their meals with both hands! It tastes better that way!’ Corrin just assumed it was a cultural thing. He missed knives and forks. And plates and cups.

Corrin missed Nohr.

The thought hit him while he was lying on his back on the strange thin mattress he’d woken up on, a ‘futon’ Rinkah had called it.

After dinner Corrin had cleaned himself in a bucket out in the kitchen before returning to the room and watching the village lights for a time before simply lying back and waiting for sleep to come. Now all he could think of was home. He did his best to stop his mind from wandering to thoughts that would be too painful, instead fantasizing about how his siblings would be coping without him. No doubt they were worried. And Felicia would be beside herself. Flora and Jakob, too, once they found out he was missing. Corrin smirked thinking about his butler, the mental image of Jakob simply loading up a pack and going out to rescue him without so much as a word because it was ‘his duty to Lord Corrin’.

Corrin sighed, his head still spinning from the potent alcohol they’d had at dinner. To think, he’d managed to drink an entire bottle himself…

He glanced up at the sounds of someone in the next room, voices and the sounds of movement, but put it out of his mind. This was Kumagera’s house, after all. It was silly to think that he and Rinkah would be the only ones in it. Wondering absently if someone would come to wake him up Corrin almost totally missed the sound of heavy footsteps outside his room.

He glanced up as Rinkah appeared in the doorway, a towel still resting on her shoulders. As she stepped in she let out a tired sigh, rotating her neck and angling for the only furniture in the room besides the low table; the futon Corrin was currently occupying.

Corrin’s eyes went wide as he recalled the incident at the hot springs earlier in the day, and much to his continued horror Rinkah simply flopped down next to him before rolling onto her side, facing away. He could smell the springs on her, the subtle earthy scent of the minerals in the water.

“Er…” Corrin started, scooting away from the warrior woman.

“I only have one damn futon,” she muttered, her words slurred from the alcohol she’d had with dinner.

Corrin sighed, deciding he didn’t care anymore, and let his head fall back down to the futon. They lay there in silence, the familiar comforting shadow of sleep encroaching further and further on Corrin’s awareness. He shifted closer to Rinkah, short of touching her back, but aware of just how much heat the Flame Tribe warrior was giving off.

Just as Corrin felt himself begin to drift off he was jarred back awake by a loud, passionate moan from the next room. His eye went wide as the moan repeated, and Rinkah let out a harsh growl.

“Shut up already!” she roared, throwing her towel at the wall ineffectively.

Kumagera’s laughter could be heard through the wall now, as well as a shouted apology.

Corrin groaned, resting his arms atop his face.

He had changed his mind. The Flame Tribe really were barbarians.

*

The next morning Corrin sat up, cradling his head in one hand as he looked around the absurdly bright room through his fingers.

He had a splitting headache, and the bright light wasn’t helping any.

“Why is the light so damn bright!?” Corrin groaned, rolling onto his face and hiding his head under his arms.

Growling incoherently Corrin sat up again, shielding his eyes from the glare. Was somebody casting a spell? The light was too white to be from a fire…

With leaden, tired movements Corrin rose and shuffled to the verandah Rinkah had left open the previous evening, shielding his face all the while. His eyes widened involuntarily before he winced, squinting against the light again.

Blue. The sky was a magnificent shade of blue. A few wisps of white cloud drifted through the blue, but otherwise the sky was a uniform shade of azure the likes of which Corrin had never dreamed of.

Gaping, the Prince had to reach out and steady himself on a nearby wall as he gazed in awe upwards. The skies of Nohr were always dark, always cloudy. Gunter had always said that the skies cleared maybe once or twice in a lifetime, but he’d never mentioned that the sky was so… so… blue.

Corrin blinked, glancing around. Where was Rinkah, anyway?

He didn’t turn as footsteps approached, still enraptured by the blue of the sky.

“Is it normal for the Flame Tribe to leave their prisoners unattended?” he asked, grinning. “That’s twice now.”

A soft, masculine laugh from behind him made Corrin glance over his shoulder, Kumagera standing a few feet away.

“Is that what you think you are?” the older man asked.

Corrin shrugged, going back to looking at the sky.

“If I am, it was all worth it just to see the sky. Does it look like this all the time on this side of the Canyon?”

“Most days, yes,” the Chieftain said, moving to stand beside him. “But the weather can be unpredictable in the mountains. More so in the lowlands. But once you get into Hoshido itself… yes. The sky is almost always like this.”

Corrin made a thoughtful sound as he nodded.

“Sorry if we kept you up last night,” Kumagera chuckled.

Corrin gave the man a curious look, his apology totally lost on the Prince. Due in no small part to the alcohol Corrin couldn’t remember a bit of the previous evening after dinner. His condition probably didn’t help, but he’d been brought up to be gracious…

“Think nothing of it,” Corrin said with a small smile.

“Huh, that was easy,” Kumagera guffawed before sobering. “Rinkah’s gone to meet the envoy from Hoshido. I have to go to inspect the farmlands in the lower regions to make sure they weren’t damaged by the storms. I… won’t be here to see you off. Take care of my daughter, Prince of Nohr. I want your word.”

“You have it,” Corrin said immediately. “Although it is odd to ask a prisoner to care for his captor.”

Kumagera barked out a harsh laugh, as Corrin was learning the Chieftain was so wont to do, before slapping Corrin on the shoulder.

“You’re not a prisoner, Kamui. Not any more. Remember that.”

With that perplexing statement the Chieftain turned and left, leaving Corrin to his thoughts. The word Kamui stirred something in him, something familiar but lost to the haze of his affliction. Wondering what Kamui even meant, Corrin went back to staring at the sky and watching the clouds drift past, basking in the warmth of the sun.

*

Corrin lost track of time, staring up at the sky until his eyes ached when Rinkah finally came for him. With a grunt the warrior woman tossed Ganglari and a cloak to Corrin, the Prince catching one in either hand.

“Did you find my cape with me?” he asked. “It’s… important to me. And what of my armor?”

Rinkah stopped, looking at him funny.

“That tattered rag? I did. The armor was unsalvageable. It looked like a beast had torn it off of you.”

Corrin nodded as Rinkah disappeared into the building again, looking down at the sword clenched in his hand. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a vague sense of malice from the weapon. He didn’t trust it anymore, but he couldn’t recall why. Pushing these thoughts aside he strapped the weapon to his hip, finishing just as Rinkah reappeared.

“Here,” she said, shoving a black bundle into his hands.

Corrin unfurled the cape, a lump forming in his throat. His sister’s handiwork wasn’t quite ruined, but it was close. The edges were tattered, and the bottom had a number of large tears in it. Still, though, Corrin swung it around and tied it around his throat without an ounce of hesitation before putting the travelling cloak on over top of it.

“Are you ready now?” Rinkah grunted, frowning.

“I am,” Corrin nodded. “Take me to Hoshido. I need to explain my actions.”

Rinkah’s eyes narrowed at being ordered around, but she silently spun on her heel and led him to the house’s entrance. A familiar man with green hair stood waiting, loose sleeveless black and green clothes adorning him. As soon as he spotted Corrin he dropped to one knee, averting his gaze.

“It does me great honor to see you well, Prince Kamui,” he said.

Corrin hesitated, looking questioningly to Rinkah. The woman shrugged disinterestedly, turning away.

“I… think you may have the wrong person,” Corrin said slowly.

The green-haired man looked up at him, his brow furrowing.

“You do not remember?” he asked.

“I don’t remember a lot of things,” Corrin said with a sad grin. “I was injured as a child, and now my memories are… hazy. Fragmented. It’s been like that all my life, I’m told.”

“So you do not remember freeing me in Nohr?” the man asked.

Corrin shook his head, recalling that there had indeed been another man with Rinkah at the time, but it felt like it had happened a lifetime ago.

“Very well; please forgive my rudeness, my lord. My name is Kaze, and I am a ninja of Hoshido. I’ve been tasked with bringing you home, Prince Kamui.”


	8. Chapter 8

The ancient nation of Hoshido was one of poise and grace; of peace, tranquility and artistry. The warriors of this land dedicated their lives to their chosen craft; be it the katana, the naginata or even the yumi, their weapon was their life. Their skill measured their worth.

Which was why, as a young man drew back the string of a plain training yumi and fired his arrow, he couldn’t help but grin as it struck the bullseye dead center.

Takumi, the second Prince of Hoshido, shook out his shoulder as he lowered the yumi. He’d seen Nohrian bows before, thick ungainly things about half the length of a Hoshidan yumi, and he’d honestly wondered how the Nohrian archers could manage to even hit anything.

He was alone in his private dojo, training as he so often did in his spare time. Perfection with his chosen craft was to be expected of the Second Prince of Hoshido. His training was important.

He crossed the polished wood floor of the dojo, his loose, flowing pants brushing the boards softly the only sound besides his breathing. He flicked his long hair back over his shoulder as he walked, the pale-brown strands almost the color of cream. His dojo was a sacred place to him, a private place. The only place where he could make mistakes, to strive to better himself, to not be perfect. The only people he allowed in here were his brother and his retainer, Oboro.

Drinking deeply from the jug of water he’d brought in, Takumi rotated his shoulder again, trying to work some of the stiffness out of the joint. He’d spent too much time practicing his swordsmanship lately and his archery muscles were stiff. He needed to be flexible, to flow through the movements. Not like his brother’s sword-style, which was all rough and harsh movements, his archery was elegant and refined.

He glanced down at the bare, perfectly toned shoulder revealed by his training gear, giving a small sigh. Unlike his brother Ryoma Takumi was thin and toned. An archer, through and through. Training with him lately had taught Takumi one thing above all the others; that he should stick to his yumi.

Takumi frowned, turning suddenly and firing another arrow with barely a glance at his target; the arrow struck the small bullseye, embedding directly next to the other one he’d shot. His frown turned into a grin. No one could shoot better than him.

His master would have given him a good hiding for that little show of reckless superiority, but it just proved that he was the best.

Taking a deep breath the young prince approached the edge of the small balcony that marked the shooting position and resumed his stance, lifting his yumi reverently and nocking an arrow. With a deep breath he drew the string back and-

“Lord Takumi!”

His jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed up as he was interrupted, the arrow leaving his fingers and landing just outside of the bullseye.

“Oboro!” Takumi snarled, rounding on his retainer. “What did I say about interrupting me!?”

The woman stopped before him, bowing respectfully. She had forgone her armor, but still wore the stylish flowing orange layer over her black shirt and tights, contrasting beautifully with her deep blue hair, that she usually wore beneath it. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail much like his own was usually styled and held in place with twin braids at either side of her head. Takumi honestly thought she looked beautiful on any day, but she so rarely smiled it was hard to tell sometimes.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” she said, still bowing. “But… something has happened. I do not even know where to begin.”

Takumi sighed, tossing his practice yumi to one side, his good mood well and truly gone now. The sound of the bow being discarded on the hard wooden floor was shockingly loud in the dojo, but Oboro didn’t flinch.

“Start at the beginning then,” he growled.

She knew better. She wouldn’t have interrupted him unless it was important.

“Kaze has returned from his mission to the Flame Tribe,” Oboro began.

“Saizo’s brother?” Takumi asked, brow furrowing. “What of it?”

With Oboro’s eyes still carefully planted on the ground, Takumi began to strip out of his training gear as they talked. He’d left his normal clothes sitting in the basket to one side, and this wasn’t the first time Oboro had given him news while he’d been changing…

He snuck a glance at her, and was surprised to find her so tense. Usually the spearwoman was more composed than this.

“He brings news of your brother,” Oboro went on.

“What happened to Ryoma!?” Takumi asked, cutting her off.

Oboro finally rose, shaking her head.

“Not Lord Ryoma…” she said. “Prince Kamui. Prince Kamui has returned to Hoshido!”

*

Corrin was hesitant as he approached Castle Shirasagi, looking up in awe at the massive building. Of course, he also hissed and shaded his eyes from the persistent brightness of the Hoshidan sky as he did so, reminding himself for the umpteenth time that he wasn’t in Nohr anymore. His eyes had watered persistently for the first day, irritating him to no end as Rinkah guffawed at him wiping tears from his face. Now he was beginning to adjust. It was still unpleasant, but he was beginning to get used to the light.

It was easily the size of Castle Krakenburg back in Nohr, but what was really astounding about it was the simple fact that it had taken most of the afternoon to climb up to it. The Hoshidan Capital was spread out around a large, freestanding plateaued mountain, and Shirasagi itself was situated atop it.

Where Krakenburg was safely ensconced beneath the earth, Shirasagi was defended by nature in its own way; namely that there was no way that Corrin could see for an army to approach the castle except for the long, winding path that they had come up on.

“It’s quite the sight,” Corrin said, awed.

Kaze nodded, grinning a little. During the journey Corrin had found that he quite liked the young ninja. They were similar in age, and Kaze was incredibly kind to him, despite his being Nohrian. Rinkah had just tagged along, frowning grouchily the entire trip and answering any and all queries with single-syllable responses. Kaze had even procured him a simple shirt he’d called a ‘gi’ when they’d passed through a village, the vest Rinkah had given him safely over top of it. Corrin had also tied his cape around his chest like a sash after the first day of travel, the heavy fabric choking him the entire day tied around his throat.

“Wait until you see the view from the top,” Kaze chuckled. “I swear on clear days you can see all of Hoshido.”

Corrin grinned now, too, looking up at the towering castle more carefully this time. He was torn between wondering what the view from the top was like, and what his siblings back in Nohr would make of it. There wasn’t much view to be seen from Krakenburg, but from the top of Shirasagi…

Kaze stepped forward, indicating Corrin and Rinkah stay back. Arrayed around the gates to the castle were great trees, no doubt ancient, that were blossoming with bright pink petals. A strong gust of wind blew, and a storm of petals flew around Corrin. The Prince had to brush some of the pink petals out of his hair. The trio approached the massive gates to the castle’s interior courtyard, Shirasagi castle looming above them and blocking out the sky with its majesty, stopping as a squad of Hoshidan soldiers approached.

“Kaze. You’re back,” one of them said, stepping forward. “We heard you were captured in Nohr.”

Her short purple hair was styled strangely to Corrin; short at the back but longer at the front, with two long strands at either side of her head reaching down past her shoulders. She wore white robes beneath her matching armor, and it took Corrin a moment to realize that all of the soldiers present wore white.

“Hello, Yuzu,” Kaze said. “I was captured. If not for Prince Kamui, I would no doubt be dead.”

A ripple went through the assembled soldiers, and Corrin had to resist the urge to shrink away as all eyes turned to him. The Prince subtly rose to his full height, matching their gazes. For her part Yuzu narrowed her eyes, studying Corrin carefully before she gasped as recognition set in. The woman opened and closed her mouth a few times before shaking her head and rallying bowing low from the hip, the rest of the men behind her doing the same a moment later.

“Prince Kamui, welcome home,” Yuzu said, her voice thick. “I cannot say what a joy it is to see you returned to us.”

“Er… thank you,” Corrin said with a nod.

Kaze grinned at the other man’s obvious discomfort as he cleared his throat.

“We’ve had a long journey, Yuzu,” he said evenly. “Might we pass? The Queen is waiting.”

“Of course!” she practically shouted as she shot back up. “I will escort you personally!”

The travelers stepped forward, Rinkah snorting unimpressed as the Hoshidans lined up and stood at attention. Yuzu ushered them into the castle, Kaze and Corrin following as Rinkah brought up the rear, glaring at anyone that so much as glanced at them. Yuzu held her head high, practically marching through the beautiful palace with pride radiating off of her.

“You two know each other?” Corrin asked quietly as they walked, nodding at the back of their guide.

Kaze smirked. “We’re from the same clan. We had some lessons together as children before she chose to take up the sword.”

“She seems… very serious.”

“She’s excited,” Kaze chuckled. “Everyone will be once news of your return spreads.”

Corrin sighed, growing silent. He had no memory of ever setting foot in Hoshido before his disastrous mission to the Bottomless Canyon nearly two weeks ago now. But Kaze, and now Yuzu, too, apparently recognized him. He’d been fortunate enough not to have another amnesia-episode since that time in Nohr, but he still couldn’t recall anything about the nation he hadn’t read in books or been told by Gunter or Leo.

Corrin hesitated a moment, trying to remember when, exactly, Gunter had died.

“Keep moving,” Rinkah grunted, nudging him hard in the middle of his back.

With a smirk Corrin shook his head and hurried to catch up with Kaze and Yuzu. Rinkah was rough, but she didn’t strike him as a bad person. He wanted to get to know her a little better, but the Flame Tribe warrior didn’t talk about herself. In fact, she hardly spoke at all. She mentioned something about her tribe not trusting outsiders, and Corrin wanted to know more.

Yuzu led them through a labyrinth of hallways and courtyards, up flights of stairs and across bridges and balconies. Corrin quickly became lost, but Yuzu maintained her pace and never slowed, so he shrugged and resigned himself to being totally lost. She slowed, coming to a stop before more of the sliding doors that seemed to be popular in Hoshido. Corrin didn’t even notice, too busy studying a beautiful mural painted on a nearby wall, until Kaze stopped him from walking into her with a hand on his shoulder.

Corrin glanced up, surprised to see another young man with a long ponytail at the back of his head standing with his arms crossed. There was a woman behind him, carefully looking down.

“So this is him?” the young man asked.

“I am Prince Corrin of Nohr, and I’ll thank you to treat me with the respect I am due,” he snapped, pushing past Yuzu.

“Lord Corrin, if I were you-” Kaze started, cutting off when Rinkah held him back with a vicious smile on her face.

“’Corrin’?” the other man spat. “A foul, clumsy Nohrian name.”

“And I suppose your name is all flowers and roses, then?” Corrin asked, clenching his fists.

“Watch your tone, Nohrian-“ the woman behind the man started.

He cut her off, lifting one hand almost lazily as he stepped forward.

“I am Prince Takumi, second son of King Sumeragi,” he announced. “And you will treat me with the respect I am due in my own home.”

Corrin grinned frostily in response to the other Prince, but held his tongue. He was here to make amends and apologize for violating the peace treaty, not to start another war by punching an irksome foreign prince in the mouth.

“I apologize, Prince Takumi, but I have come to speak to your Queen. Once I am done with them, then perhaps we may converse.”

Takumi snorted through his nose, clearly not missing the way Corrin was brushing him off. With a frown the Hoshidan Prince stepped aside, the woman at his back following with a vicious glare at Corrin.

“So be it,” Takumi said. “This is the Throne Room. You’ll find her within. Excuse me, ‘Prince Corrin’, but I wished to see what manner of man you were. And I am not impressed.”

“I am not here to impress you,” Corrin said dismissively, stepping up to the doors.

Behind him he heard Rinkah sigh in disappointment; clearly she’d been looking forward to a fight. Yuzu and Kaze both stepped up, sliding the doors to the side and allowing Corrin entrance. Takumi hung back as Corrin’s party entered the throne room, frowning all the while.

“So that’s him…” Takumi muttered.

“He’s disrespectful,” Oboro growled. “And rude. Nohrian through and through.”

“What would you expect, given how long they’ve had their claws in him,” Takumi sighed. “Forget it. I’m tired. Have Hinata run me a bath and prepare my dinner.”

“Very well, Lord Takumi,” Oboro said with a bow, rushing off.

Takumi continued to stare at the open doorway to the Throne Room for another moment before he scoffed and turned away.

*

Corrin stepped through the throne room with his head held high, ignoring the looks he was getting from the nobles standing around the periphery of the room. The Throne Room itself was just as big as his own father’s in Nohr, and perhaps even grander. Great red arches held up the roof, the ceiling painted to look like the outside sky. Ahead of him, on a raised dais, sat the Queen on her throne. Beside her two men stood, one who was easily as tall as Xander wearing red armor, and another, slight man in simple grey robes, who pushed the spectacles he was wearing back up his nose when he noticed Corrin.

The Queen frowned, rising to her feet. Her white robes were beautiful beyond compare. Never in his life had Corrin seen clothing like it; white, like snow, carefully accented with blue the same color as the Hoshidan sky. She was older, but had clearly aged far better than King Garon had, and bore only a few smile lines around her mouth and eyes. The throne behind her was just as grand as the one in Nohr, but in a different fashion. Where Garon’s throne was a display of his strength and power, the Hoshidan throne almost looked like a piece of artwork, all flowing lines and grace on its raised dais.

“Leave us,” she said, waving a hand at the nobles.

Without an ounce of hesitation the assembled nobles bowed before turning and filing out, leaving the cavernous room empty save for Corrin’s party, the Queen and the two men that had been on the dais. The Queen turned and whispered something to the other man, who started and nodded. After a moment the slim man in glasses bowed and retreated from the room through a back door, but not before giving Corrin a strange, studying look.

The Queen gave Corrin a strange feeling, a headache playing at the back of his eyes like he usually got when he had another memory lapse whenever he looked at her.

The man in red armor stepped down first, his long brown hair like a mane around his head, held away from his stern, angular face with a strange head-guard that matched his armor. A long, thin sword hung from his belt, and Corrin could feel a strange power radiating from the weapon.

“Welcome back, Kaze,” the tall man said. “Good work. You too, Yuzu. Thank you for leading them here. And welcome, Lady Rinkah. It’s nice to see you again.”

Kaze nodded and knelt down, Yuzu doing the same at his side, but Rinkah snorted and crossed her arms, glaring at the tall man.

“Thank you, Lord Ryoma,” Kaze said, his eyes cast low.

Corrin swallowed his nerves and looked up at the man, the Hoshidan Queen watching carefully from behind him. The armored man, Prince Ryoma apparently, looked down at Corrin with a bemused expression on his face. Corrin met his gaze unfaltering. He was dirty. He was dressed in little better than rags. But he was still a Prince of Nohr, and he would act like it.

“High Prince Ryoma,” he said in greeting. “I apologize for not visiting under better circumstances. I’ve come to say my piece for violating the Peace Treaty. I ask only that you hear me out. Then you may do as you please.”

Ryoma nodded, his face breaking into a grin.

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Kamui.”

Corrin’s brow furrowed, but before he could speak the Queen stepped down from the dais to stand before him.

“I can’t believe it is really you,” the Queen said, a strange waver in her voice.

Corrin blinked, smiling his best politician’s smile at her.

“I’m sorry, my Queen, but I don’t think we’ve been… uh…”

He trailed off when he realized that tears were running down the Queen’s face. Her earlier poise and grace crumbled as she let out a sob and stepped forward to wrap Corrin in a gentle embrace, holding his head to her shoulder as she sobbed.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” she said through her sobs. “Kamui, my sweet child…”

“Hey, wow,” Corrin said, pushing her off and stepping back. “Look, like I said, you’re mistaken. My name is Corrin, and I’m one of the Princes of Nohr-”

“Is that what they told you?” Ryoma asked, cutting him off. “Is that the lie they planted in your head to make it easier to control you?”

“What? No!” Corrin snapped. “They’re my family! They’ve taken care of me my entire life!”

“They’ve held you prisoner,” Ryoma said levelly. “They kidnapped you as a child. Your real name is Kamui. You’re a Prince of Hoshido. You’re my brother.”

Corrin blinked a few times, looking back and forth between Ryoma and the Queen. He felt his pulse quicken as a headache blossomed behind his eyes.

“I… I… I don’t… remember…” he said, turning to the Queen. “I don’t even… know your name…”

The Queen stepped forward again, shushing Corrin and smiling.

“My name is Mikoto,” she said. “Kamui, I’m… your mother.”

“Lies!” Corrin shouted suddenly, retreating further. “And stop calling me that! My name is Corrin, dammit! Stop trying to deceive me! I came to apologize for breaking the treaty, and I’ve done that! Execute me if you’re going to, but stop… stop…”

Corrin held his head and doubled over, groaning.

“Stop filling my head with lies!” he snarled, dropping to his knees.

Pain assailed his head, blurring his vision and making him think he would pass out. What they were saying… it had to be lies. There was no other reasoning. King Garon was his father; Xander, Leo, Camilla and Elise were his siblings… The Hoshidans were lying to him for some reason…

A cool, calming sensation spread through his head, quelling the pain. Corrin realized that Mikoto had placed a hand on his head, and was kneeling in front of him. The cool sensation was emanating from Mikoto’s hand, he realized, and resisted the urge to slap her away from him until he felt a little less like doing so would end up with him throwing up on the floor. As he glanced up he could see Ryoma talking animatedly with Rinkah and Kaze, while Yuzu watched on at a loss. He couldn’t hear what they were saying though the pounding in his ears, though.

Mikoto’s very presence was confusing. She calmed him, but… he couldn’t bring himself to trust her. Something inside him just rejected the idea.

“Relax,” Mikoto said softly, her voice cutting through the haze in his mind. “Please relax, Ka- Corrin.”

Corrin let out a sigh, the sound of his name finally making him calm. When Mikoto finally leaned away from him the pain in his head was gone. He glanced up at the Queen curiously, none of the irritation or malice he’d felt towards her remaining.

“What did you do to me?” he asked.

“I dispelled a curse,” Mikoto said, smiling softly. “Or rather a small part of one. You don’t have to believe us right away. But… give us a chance. There’s something here that may help you-”

Before Mikoto could finish the doors to the Throne Room clattered open, a winded man that bore the markings of a messenger hurrying in.

“Not now!” Ryoma shouted.

The man ignored him, hesitating only a moment before kneeling in front of the Queen.

“Queen Mikoto, I bring urgent news! The Northern Villages are under attack!”

“Dammit, Hinoka and Sakura are still up there,” Ryoma growled. “Fine timing, as always…”

“Y-yes milord,” the messenger stammered. “They are working to help evacuate the villagers.”

Mikoto rose smoothly to her feet, Corrin clambering unsteadily to his own.

“Ryoma,” the Queen said.

“Of course,” the Prince nodded. “I’ll leave immediately. Kaze, Yuzu. Accompany me.”

“I’ll send Reina after you. And you should take Corrin, as well,” Mikoto said, her tone brokering no disagreement.

Ryoma and Corrin both goggled at the Queen before the Hoshidan Prince sighed.

“Very well. I won’t argue, we’re short of time. Corrin, can you fly?”

“Er… no, but-”

“Then you’ll fly with Yuzu. Kaze, go to the Pegasus Roost and prepare some mounts for us. We’ll leave immediately-”

“Okay, stop!” Corrin shouted. “All of a sudden I’m going with you to battle!? Who’s even attacking you, and why is it my problem!?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ryoma said sadly. “Nohr is attacking us. Come and see the truth with your own eyes if you do not believe us.”

*

Corrin looked down from the air with a growing sense of unease as Yuzu brought their mount around to fly over a burning mountain village, actually breathing a slightly guilty sigh of relief when they passed under the smoke and it blocked out the sun. Snow still sat on the ground at this elevation, and Corrin was suddenly grateful they had flown instead of having to walk up the mountains, even if it was colder flying. The three pegasai were larger than Corrin had been expecting, easily the size of the Nohrian warhorses he was used to, if not just as big as wyverns. He’d always imagined them being smaller, more delicate creatures, but the one he was riding carried both Yuzu and himself with ease. With their impressive wingspan the creatures were rather intimidating, but the Hoshidans handled them masterfully.

The village itself was similar in design to what Corrin had seen of the Flame Tribe village, but smaller and slightly more rustic. Or, he corrected himself, what was left of the village was.

“Where are the people?” he called over the wind.

“Most likely hiding in the mountains,” Yuzu shouted over her shoulder.

Corrin nodded, looking for Ryoma in the sky. Kaze and Rinkah were sharing a pegasus, too, neither looking overly impressed about having to be so close to the other. Ryoma darted between them, his mount unencumbered by a second rider and moving much more agilely in the air. He did a quick circuit of the village before returning to the others, the wind whipping his long brown hair away from his face.

“I’ve spotted the villagers in a pass to the east!” Ryoma shouted, his deep voice carrying easily through the howling wind. “Sakura and Hinoka won’t be far! Follow me!”

With that he pulled his mount’s reins, forcing the pegasus into a wheeling dive before levelling out and shooting for the pass the villagers were sheltering in. Corrin marveled at the Hoshidan Prince’s flying skill as Yuzu urged their own mount after him, Kaze and Rinkah not far behind.

As they drew lower to the ground Corrin could see the wholesale devastation wreaked upon the village, and it made him sick to his stomach. Homes had been trampled and set alight, flames licking at the sky as they consumed the wooden Hoshidan buildings. Corrin squinted against the wind and smoke, studying the flames before he gasped.

There were still people in the village.

What looked to be a family, six figures running through the burning village; it was hard to tell through the thick haze of smoke. More figures were following them, mostly hidden in the smoke; what Corrin could see of them, they were huge, lumbering beasts. Despite their size, though, they were gaining on the villagers. Corrin spotted another figure in the smoke, a large canine leaping through the clouds to attack the hulking figures but barely slowing them down. The family’s pet, maybe?

The family weren’t going to escape in time. The large dog was tossed aside, crashing through the wall of one of the buildings that hadn’t caught fire yet, leaving the family defenseless.

With barely a thought Corrin slipped from the saddle behind Yuzu as their mount passed over the family, ignoring her surprised shout as he fell.

He landed heavily, knees bending to absorb the impact, and drew Ganglari in one smooth movement. A fall from that height would have killed a normal man, but he was Nohrian royalty; the blood of the First Dragons ran through his veins and made him strong, stronger than any average man. Glancing over his shoulder at the shocked villagers he gave them a grin.

“Go! Get to the eastern pass! I’ll hold them here!”

“Th-thank you!” a middle-aged man said, hoisting a small child up in his arms.

Corrin had been right; it was a family, parents, three children and an elder. The elder was being helped by the woman while the father tried to corral the terrified children. He offered them a confident smile and nod before turning to the billowing smoke, face dropping to a determined frown.

The first of the creatures stomped out of the smoke, slowing as it registered the Prince before it as a threat. It had a strange, steel mask covering its face, its chest and arms bare save for the shackles on its wrists and wearing little more than a ragged loincloth. Close up Corrin could see that it was easily over six feet tall, perhaps even pushing seven, and solidly built with thick muscle. Most disturbing, though, was the color of its skin. While the creature looked human its flesh was a pallid, grey color, shiny like wax.

With a mighty roar the creature charged at Corrin, smashing at the ground with its fists before barreling right at him.

Corrin tensed, his body coiling like a spring as the creature approached. Once it came into striking range he pivoted out of its path, sliding Ganglari easily between its ribs. For good measure as he spun around it he hacked backwards into the back of its neck, severing its spine. He actually leapt a little as the creature fell to its knees, dissolving into black sand and leaving nothing but the shackles and mask behind.

He didn’t have time to marvel at the creature’s strange demise, however, as five more lumbered out of the smoke, all looking almost as if they were copies of the first and all just as big and mean looking. Corrin rotated his head, stretching out his neck muscles as he took a few steps backwards. If they were all as slow as the first one he could take them no problem…

Corrin didn’t wait to give the creatures a chance to attack him this time, throwing himself at the creatures shoulder first and wheeling low, lashing out with his sword at their legs. Two of the creatures lurched sideways as Ganglari bit into their exposed legs, but the other three managed to avoid his strike. Corrin didn’t rest, though, letting muscle-memory take over and allowing Xander’s training to dictate his movements. He turned, lunging with the tip of his sword through the heart of one of the creatures before it could even bring its shackled arms up in defense, and as Corrin turned to the remaining four it was already dissolving into sand. He hacked downwards with his sword, cutting easily through the arm of the next creature in a spray of black sand before jamming his sword up beneath the thing’s mask and through its throat.

Before he could turn on the last unwounded creature something grabbed his leg in a tight grip, and with wide eyes Corrin realized he’d let himself get carried away. He’d forgotten the ones he’d left wounded.

The sky and earth inverted as Corrin flew through the air, swung by the leg and sent crashing into the ground by one of the wounded creatures. He yelped in pain as he felt something in his chest snap, his ribs grinding painfully on the had-packed earth and something coming loose in his shoulder with a sickening pop. He rolled, ignoring his pain the way Xander and Gunter had beat into him, just as the unwounded creature brought its fists down where he’d been resting. Behind it he could see the other two staggering forwards, dragging their injured legs behind them.

Corrin snarled, backing up further and passing Ganglari to his off-hand. He’d made a rookie mistake, and it had cost him dearly. His right side was unresponsive now, thanks to the wound he’d taken being thrown. Something ground painfully in his chest every time he took a breath, making him wonder just how strong the creatures were. Again, a normal man would have died from that blow. Fortunately Gunter had been adamant on Corrin learning to fight with both hands, and while his right hand, now hanging limply at his side, was definitely his dominant one he was still more than adequate with his left.

Gnashing his teeth and feeling the familiar fire beneath his skin, Corrin felt his rage burning hotter as the creatures advanced. Before they could attack him in a group, though, the dog from earlier leapt out of the building it had crashed into and onto the closest of the creatures, burying its fangs into the creature’s neck. However, Corrin was surprised to see it wasn’t a dog, but a giant, ginger-furred fox with two tails.

Taking the initiative back Corrin darted forward again, surprising the slower creature and running it through with his sword, making quick work of the other wounded creature in the same manner. As he stepped through the growing pile of black sand the giant fox finished with its own prey, the creature Corrin had wounded earlier dissolving in the fox’s mouth.

Corrin glared warily at the fox as it coughed and spat the black sand out, wondering if he’d need to fight it, now, too. The fox just looked up at him, sitting down heavily and quirking its head at him curiously as it caught its breath.

“Uh… thanks,” he said after a moment of indecision.

“No problem. It was fun!”

Corrin blinked a few times. Had that fox just… spoken to him? Impossible. He must have just hit his head when he’d fallen, too. With that thought in his mind he turned away from the fox and started to walk in the direction that the family had gone. After barely a few steps he heard shouting from above.

“Lord Corrin!? Lord Corrin, answer me!”

“I’m here!” Corrin shouted, waving Ganglari above his head for good measure.

He glanced over his shoulder, seeing the large fox padding after him. Was it… smiling at him? No. No, he’d just hit his head.

Two pegasai dropped out of the smoky sky, Kaze, Yuzu and Rinkah all jumping off their mounts and rushing towards Corrin and the fox.

“Are you out of your mind!?” Rinkah snarled when she reached him. “You jump off a flying pegasus!? Do you want to die!?”

“I’ve walked away from higher falls,” Corrin chuckled. “You should see how high my training area was back in Nohr.”

“You are unhurt, Lord Corrin?” Yuzu asked seriously.

By way of answer Corrin swung his limp arm a little, wincing as he did.

“I think the creatures broke a few ribs as well,” he added.

Rinkah sighed and rolled her eyes, stepping up to Corrin and yanking on his arm. He screamed, but the joint popped back into place, and after a moment the pain subsided.

“Warn me next time!” Corrin snapped, rounding on the Flame Tribe woman.

“Next time don’t jump off a flying pegasus into a flaming village!” Rinkah shouted back.

“Alright, alright,” Kaze said, interposing himself between them. “We’re all okay, so let’s hurry on to catch up with Lord Ryoma. Uh… Corrin, who’s your new friend?”

Corrin turned to where the fox was still watching, its head quirked to one side as if it were smiling.

“It helped me kill the creatures attacking the villagers,” he explained. “It may very well have saved my life.”

“I’m a she, thank you,” the fox pouted.

Corrin shook his head, blinking a few times.

“And clearly I’m concussed, because I keep hearing it talking to me,” he added.

“I am talking, stop ignoring me!”

“That’s it, I’ve gone crazy,” the Prince sighed.

Corrin turned back in time to see the fox bearing down on him. With a yelp he fell backwards, the fox perching happily on his chest. With a very human-like sigh, almost pouting, the fox leaned back. And began to shrink. Its fur became a lovely red kimono, cut short over her knees. Her hair was the same dirty blonde color that her fur had been, and emerging from the top of her head were two high, pointed fox’s ears. The young woman now perched on Corrin’s chest laughed at the stunned expression on his face, revealing elongated canines like those of the fox she had been just a second ago. A long, bushy tail flicked back and forth behind her, too.

“My name is Selkie!” she said in the same voice that the fox had had.

Corrin opened and closed his mouth a few times before looking up pleadingly at Kaze. Kaze and Yuzu were clearly trying, and failing, to stifle their laughter, while Rinkah glared at the fox-girl.

“I take it this is the first time you’ve met a Kitsune?” Kaze asked laughingly.

“Why is she using me as a chair?” Corrin asked by way of answer.

“Because you smell nice,” Selkie laughed, leaning down to closer to Corrin’s face.

Rinkah grunted, stomping forward and lifting the Kitsune off of Corrin by the scruff. Selkie let out an indignant shout before standing on her own, crossing her arms and giving Rinkah a very cute glare. The Flame Tribe woman ignored her, reaching down and tugging Corrin to his feet with one hand around his bicep. His right bicep, beneath his until only a few moments ago dislocated shoulder. With a yelp Corrin began glaring at Rinkah too, who gave him a cheeky grin before turning away.

“Lady Selkie, may I ask why you’re here?” Kaze asked, stepping forward.

Selkie frowned, her tails swishing and her ears twitching as she studied the ninja. Her face soon broke into a big grin, though, as she clearly decided she liked Kaze, too.

“I was looking for someone,” she said. “But I got lost. The people of the village were real nice to me, so I decided to help them out. Then that big thing threw me through the wall and I thought I was done for, but when I woke up I saw him fighting all of them off at once and I just had to help! It was really cool!”

Kaze nodded as Selkie turned her radiant smile back on Corrin. The Prince just frowned, cradling his injured arm.

“Will you continue to help us?” Corrin asked. “We have to go and make sure the villagers are safe.”

Selkie nodded energetically, practically jumping up and down. Now that Corrin looked closer at her human form she seemed shockingly young, maybe only Elise’s age if not younger.

“Yuzu, keep an eye on her,” Corrin said. “Let’s go make sure that the villagers are okay.”

“And give Lord Ryoma a chance to yell at you, too,” Kaze added with a smirk.

“Ah. Right. Was… he mad?” Corrin asked hesitantly as they started to jog towards the pass.

“I rarely see Lord Ryoma lose his temper like that,” Yuzu said from behind them. “He must really care for you.”

“Joy,” Corrin sighed. “I guess we can’t all crowd onto two pegasai, huh?”

*

After nearly fifteen minutes of running the little group came onto the pass that the villagers had taken shelter in. After the run and the earlier fight with the creatures in the village Corrin was out of breath. Yuzu had sent the two pegasai to wait for them elsewhere with some whispered commands in one’s ear, giving Corrin a new appreciation for the Hoshidan riding and training skills.

They slowed as the pass came into view, the snowy mountains looming above them. At the mouth of the pass Ryoma was fighting against a veritable horde of the same creatures that Corrin had fought in the village. And, to the young Prince’s stunned disbelief, Ryoma was dominating them.

Every strike of the bigger man’s sword was accompanied by a flash of lighting, arcs of electricity dancing off his long sword and through the assembled creatures, stunning them. There were no other villagers or soldiers present, but Corrin didn’t doubt that they were further into the pass.

“Into them!” Corrin shouted, breaking into a run again. “Support the Hoshidan Prince!”

“Yay! Let’s play!” Selkie giggled, leaning forward and dropping to all fours.

Corrin barely caught a glimpse of her as she transformed before the giant fox became a blur of red fur, darting towards the creatures Ryoma was squaring off with. Rinkah laughed, too, overtaking Corrin in her bloodlust and swinging her large iron club above her head as she ran. Kaze and Yuzu both kept pace with Corrin, Yuzu covering his injured right side as Kaze watched their rears.

Ryoma risked a glance over his shoulder, eyes widening as Selkie charged past him and barreled into the closest creature, giggling like a girl at the park. He grinned, though, when he caught sight of the others, and as Corrin finally closed with the creatures too he let loose the warcry he’d been waiting all his life to use.

“For Nohr!”

With the reinforcements from Corrin’s group Ryoma made short work of the creatures in the pass, and before long they were standing ankle deep in black sand, breathing heavily and looking around for more enemies. When none were forthcoming Ryoma sheathed his sword, still crackling with lightning around the blade, and stomped over to Corrin.

Corrin resisted the urge to wince instinctively as Ryoma lifted his hand, but let out a small relieved sigh when the older man simply clapped it on his shoulder.

“You did a good thing, saving that family,” Ryoma said. “I told them to hide in the rocks near the mouth of the pass until danger passed. Just… next time don’t scare me like that.”

Corrin nodded, sagging as he let out a breath. Ryoma smiled as he dropped his hand, stepping back and crossing his arms with a grin.

“Also, I’m not overly pleased with your choice of battle cry.”

Corrin did wince this time, looking up guiltily.

“Force of habit?” he tried lamely.

Ryoma laughed, shaking his head. “Just remember where you are next time, little Prince.”

Corrin had to blink, the words ‘little prince’ making his head spin a little. Ryoma apparently didn’t notice, turning instead to Selkie. The Kitsune had shifted back to her human form again, and was kicking around innocently in the sand left behind by the creatures.

“My thanks to you, Lady Kitsune,” Ryoma said graciously.

“’s okay,” Selkie said distractedly. “Corrin asked me to help, and he helped me earlier, so I helped him now! My daddy always said to make sure I repay my debts.”

“Your father sounds like a wise man,” Ryoma said with a slight chuckle.

“You haven’t seen him, have you?” Selkie asked, glancing up.

“Unfortunately we haven’t come across any other Kitsune,” Ryoma answered.

“Aw. That’s okay! I’ll just keep looking,” Selkie said cheerily.

“I wish you luck,” Ryoma laughed. “But now we must look for my sisters. Yuzu, could you see to our mounts?”

“Of course, Lord Ryoma,” the swordswoman said with a bow, turning on her heel and marching out of the pass without a second glance.

Selkie gasped, freezing in place. “The villagers! I knew I was doing something!”

The Kitsune girl raced past them, deeper into the mountain pass. Corrin watched her leave, shaking his head and grinning. She really did remind him of Elise. As they walked Ryoma fell into step with Corrin, the two of them leading Kaze and Rinkah through the pass.

“What were these creatures?” Corrin asked curiously.

“We call them ‘Faceless’,” Ryoma answered soberly. “Nohr sends them regularly to harass the villages in the mountains and near the border.”

“No,” Corrin said, shaking his head. “That doesn’t make sense. I’ve never heard of such creatures. Besides, Nohrian Commandos would be much more… effective…”

The younger Prince cleared his throat, looking away when Ryoma gave him a sideways glance at his choice of words.

“Never mind…” Corrin mumbled awkwardly.

“The Nohrians send them because they cannot pass through the magic field that our mother placed over the kingdom,” Ryoma explained. “When enemy soldiers enter Hoshido with hatred or malice in their hearts they find themselves sapped of all energy and will to fight. Which is why the Nohrians send these soulless creatures instead.”

Before Corrin could continue to protest they came around a bend and upon the rest of the villagers. Selkie was kneeling, hugging a small group of children who were crying in relief. Standing around the villagers were a few tired looking soldiers; a blue-haired woman with heavy lidded eyes carrying a bow, a young woman in a pink kimono with white armor over top of it, an exhausted-looking priest of some sort leaning on his staff to stay upright, and a thin man with crimson hair that was obviously wounded lingering near another two pegasai. However, central to these soldiers were two young women who came rushing towards Ryoma as soon as they caught sight of him.

“Brother!” the taller of the two called.

She had short red hair, brighter than the wounded man standing near the pegasai near the rear. She wore a light red and white tunic, her only armor the two white pauldrons on her shoulders and the guards on her wrists. She looked a little older than Corrin, perhaps closer to Camilla’s age than his own. The other girl that followed behind her wore a delicate looking white kimono, similar to what Corrin had seen on Ikoshi back at the Flame Tribe’s shrine. She also clutched a similar staff to her chest, hesitating when she spotted him next to Ryoma. Her hair was longer than the other girl’s, and a lighter shade of red closer to pink, held in place with a flowered hairband.

“Thank you for helping defend the villagers,” she said, her voice quiet and timid, bowing slightly to Corrin. “You no doubt saved many of them. I… have to ask, though. Who are you?”

The older woman turned her attention on Corrin now, too. And, to his disdain, her eyes widened in recognition as her jaw dropped. The younger girl noticed this reaction too, glancing up at her.

“H-Hinoka?” she stammered.

Hinoka glanced back and forth between Corrin and Ryoma a few times, and Ryoma nodded with a grin. She turned back to look at Corrin, tears welling in her eyes now.

“Kamui?” she asked quietly. “Is… is it really you?”

“Actually, my name is-”

Corrin didn’t finish before the girl reached out, her hand shaking as she cupped the side of his face. Tears were running down her cheeks now as she looked disbelievingly at him, Corrin fidgeting uncomfortably under the attention. Behind her the younger girl was looking at him wide-eyed now, too.

“K-Kamui…” Hinoka said, her voice a strangled sob.

“No, my name-”

“Kamui!”

Corrin gave a strangled gasp as Hinoka latched onto him, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing into his injured shoulder. And reminding him about his bruised, potentially broken ribs. Corrin stood there awkwardly for a moment before sighing and placing his left hand on her back, rubbing comfortingly while he waited patiently for her to finish. Behind them Ryoma had moved to stand next to the other girl, resting his hand on her shoulder and smiling down at her. Further back, near the villagers, the soldiers looked on in confusion but gave the royals space. The villagers were muttering amongst themselves, clearly recognizing the name of the stolen Hoshidan Prince.

Hinoka sniffled, drawing away from Corrin and looking down. She left her hands on his shoulders, as if afraid to let him go.

“I can’t believe you’re back,” she whispered, her shoulders still trembling. “After all this time… after everything I did… you… you came back… I-I’m so… sorry…”

“Hinoka was so attached to you when you were little,” Ryoma explained. “When you were taken from us she cried for months. Then one day she stopped crying and picked up a naginata. And I will say, if you ever find yourself facing the business end of her weapon you will be filled with serious regrets about your life choices. She vowed to bring you back to us one day.”

“And this,” he added, looking down to the younger girl. “Is our youngest sister. Sakura. She’s a priestess in training, and fast on her way to being just as powerful as our mother.”

The girl averted her eyes shyly, sneaking glances at Corrin.

“Er, okay,” Corrin said, gently taking Hinoka’s hands off his shoulders. “This is awkward. My name is Corrin. And I’m the third prince of Nohr. Not… Hoshido.”

Hinoka’s head snapped up, a frown on her tear-streaked face now. She flipped her hands, taking Corrin’s own in hers and holding him tightly.

“Is that what they told you!?” she hissed. “Is that the lie they fed you to make you stay!? We… we’re your family, Kamui!”

“It’s Corrin,” he stressed.

“No!” Hinoka shouted desperately. “Your name is Kamui! You’re my baby brother! Please, you have to remember-”

“Enough!” Corrin snapped, yanking his hands away. “Even if what you say is true I can’t remember it anyway! I was injured as a child and now my memories of anything older than a week are vague at best! Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t remember you!”

Hinoka’s face went pale as Ryoma frowned, stepping forward.

“You didn’t say anything before,” he said, his voice soft.

“I haven’t had a chance to,” Corrin said exasperatedly. “I got to the palace, I had the Queen crying all over me, then I get shoved onto a pegasus and dropped into a damn warzone, and I haven’t had a single moment to sort through my own blasted thoughts on this matter! So I’m sorry my gods-forsaken condition hasn’t come up yet!”

Corrin didn’t realize until he finished that he was shouting, but when he did he was already red in the face and breathing heavily.

“Calm yourself, Corrin,” Ryoma said gently. “Corrin or Kamui, you’re still our brother. It doesn’t matter what your name is. We’ll… find a way to work through this-”

“I don’t want to work through this!” Corrin snapped. “Either kill me or let me go back to Nohr! I’ve had enough of you people trying to convince me I’m something I’m not!”

Hinoka flinched as if she’d been struck, looking away from him. Ryoma let out a sigh from his nose, frowning again. Sakura, for her part, took a tentative step forward, squinting up at him.

“Y-you… don’t know?” she asked.

“What?” Corrin growled.

“You… you’re under a curse,” she muttered. “I… I can feel it, lingering about you. It’s… centered on your head. I… I can’t sense much more than that, but…”

“A curse?” Ryoma asked.

“Could it be affecting his memories?” Hinoka asked desperately.

“P-perhaps…” Sakura mumbled, looking timidly at the ground.

Corrin sighed, shaking his head. “I bumped it when I fell earlier. What you’re sensing is a concussion.”

“Like I said, Sakura is well on her way to being a very powerful priestess,” Ryoma said thoughtfully. “She would know. If you are under the influence of a curse…”

“I’m not,” Corrin insisted.

“I have a proposition for you,” Ryoma said suddenly. “Come back to Shirasagi with us. Let us try one thing to dispel this curse and return your memories. If that doesn’t work then you have my word as the High Prince of Hoshido that I will return you to Nohr myself.”

Corrin growled, frowning before finally sighing.

“Fine,” he finally ceded. “But on one condition.”

“Name it,” Hinoka said fiercely.

Corrin stepped around her, standing in front of Sakura. The younger Princess looked up at him, trembling as he frowned down at her.

“That a healing staff?” he asked her.

She nodded silently, her hair bobbing as her eyes started watering up.

“You heal my shoulder and ribs and I’ll go anywhere you want me to. I don’t think I can ignore the pain anymore,” Corrin said, swaying on his feet and almost falling as stars danced before his vision.


	9. Chapter 9

Corrin let out a breath as he sank onto a rock, his shoulders slouching as he relaxed. All around him the villagers were preparing for the journey to Shirasagi, where the Hoshidan royalty would prepare some temporary accommodation for them before they were re-settled. He ran a hand down his filthy, smoke-streaked face, letting out another, longer sigh.

The Hoshidan soldiers were helping the villagers, but Sakura had been adamant, in her adorable timid sort of way, that he rest and recover his strength before they make the return trip to the castle.

Ryoma and Sakura were nearby, discussing the route that the villagers would take with the village elders. From what Corrin heard Yuzu would be leading them with the Hoshidan reinforcements that they were waiting for, a task that the swordswoman had accepted without so much as flinching. In fact, she had seemed quite proud to be staying behind.

Corrin watched as the younger Princess used her staff to tend to the wounded villagers, the brown-haired girl he’d seen before never far from her side. He couldn’t help but smile appreciatively as he watched her work, her gentle demeanor calming his troubled thoughts. She knelt down, comforting a small child before healing a gash on his leg, then humbly waved off the thanks of the child’s parents before moving on to the next injured person. It was inspiring.

Selkie, too, was amongst the villagers, but the Kitsune girl seemed more inclined to play with the children Sakura had already healed than to actually help them prepare for their exodus. Which, surprisingly, seemed to be appreciated by the parents of the village just as much as the Kitsune kept their children out of the way and out from underfoot while they readied what little supplies they had left.

“Where is Takumi, anyway? Why didn’t he and his soldiers come?”

Corrin glanced up, Hinoka and Ryoma approaching him now and clearly finished with the elders.

“I think I scared him off,” Corrin called with a wry grin. “He didn’t seem too impressed to meet me at the castle.”

Both of the Hoshidan royals stopped before turning and approaching him.

“You already met him?” Hinoka asked.

“Yup,” he sighed. “And he wasn’t nearly as friendly as the three of you have been.”

“He’s very proper, very traditional,” Ryoma said apologetically. “Mother says he takes after Father in that respect. And he really doesn’t like Nohr. But to others it can seem that he’s… curt.”

“I was going to say ‘rude’, but that works,” Corrin snorted.

“Hey, he’s your brother, too,” Hinoka laughed.

“We have yet to establish that,” Corrin reminded her.

There was an awkward silence before Ryoma cleared his throat, looking up at the sky. The cloud of smoke had cleared now that the village had effectively burned down, giving them a clear view of a stunningly beautiful sunset. Beautiful and, much to Corrin’s chagrin, still insufferably bright.

“Hopefully Reina isn’t far off,” the older Prince said. “Once she’s here we can leave her knights to watch over the refugees and return ahead of them.”

Corrin perked up at the familiar word.

“Hoshido has Knights?” he asked curiously.

“We do, in a manner of fashion,” Ryoma said with a slight shrug and a grin. “I don’t know how much I should explain about them to a Nohrian Prince with no relation to the Hoshidan Royalty, though…”

Corrin rolled his eyes at the older man’s poor attempt at humor, shrugging.

“Okay then, don’t,” he muttered. “I was just trying to make conversation anyway…”

Ryoma smirked, chuckling apologetically.

“My apologies,” he said. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

“Hoshidan Sky Knights are our answer to Nohrian cavalry,” Hinoka explained, leaning on her naginata. “Because so much of Hoshido is mountains we don’t really have the space for horses. Pegasai love the peaks around Shirasagi, though.”

“You know a lot about them,” Corrin commented idly.

“Well, I am one, too,” Hinoka said proudly. “There’s not as many of us as the Nohrian Knights, but we’re better trained and far more mobile.”

Corrin leaned back, arching one brow at her statement.

“You know not every Nohrian cavalryman is a Knight, right?” he asked. “In fact I think only one in one-hundred is actually knighted. It’s a very prestigious rank. Whoops. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling this to the Hoshidan Royalty, huh?”

Corrin grinned up at the two other royals, their faces breaking into smiles along with his. Ryoma shook his head a little, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Well, we didn’t know that,” he admitted.

“Just like I didn’t know about the Sky Knights,” Corrin shrugged. “So now we’re even.”

“So did you know any Knights, then?” Hinoka asked. “How good are they? I wanna know if I could beat ‘em.”

Corrin’s good cheer evaporated almost instantly, his face falling as he looked at the ground between his feet.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I knew one. He raised me, helped train me, and taught me everything I know.”

“I-I see,” Hinoka said awkwardly.

Corrin scoffed, glancing up again.

“But he was old,” he said with forced cheer. “When he was young? He would have saved this village single-handed and left us in the dust.”

Hinoka nodded excitedly. “Then I guess I’ve got a lot of training left to do!”

“Indeed,” Ryoma laughed. “I’m going to find some high ground to try and signal Reina when she flies over. Hinoka, keep an eye on Corrin.”

“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere,” Corrin chuckled with a dismissive wave.

Ryoma turned and jogged for the higher ground near the pass, exchanging a few words with the soldiers and villagers as he passed them. Hinoka and Corrin both stood and sat in silence for a time, Corrin letting his mind wander as he watched the villagers while Hinoka occasionally snuck glances at him.

“How…” she started, trailing off.

“How what?”

“How… bad is your memory loss?” she finally asked.

Corrin sighed, shrugging a little.

“Could be worse,” he admitted. “I have good days and bad days. On a good day I can remember parts of my childhood. Spending time with my sisters, studying, training with my brothers and Gunter. Ah, Gunter is- was my retainer, the Knight I spoke about earlier.”

“And… the bad days?”

“I black out,” Corrin said softly, looking away. “I wake up and I have no idea where I am. When it gets really bad I have no idea who I am. It’s… a struggle sometimes, but I get through it. Felicia, one of my maids, usually calms me down until it comes back to me.”

Hinoka nodded, her knuckles going white around the haft of her naginata.

“It’s not fair…” she said, her voice shaking. “I… we finally get you back after all this time, and… and… you don’t even remember us… it’s not fair…”

“Hey, I’m the one with the wonky brain here,” Corrin chuckled. “It’s not that bad. I mean I’ve only had one serious episode in the last year or so, so I think I’m getting a little better. It’s still a little hard trying to remember when certain things happened sometimes, but…”

Corrin trailed off when Hinoka gave a sniffle, glancing up at her from under his fringe.

“I-I’m sorry,” she muttered, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I’m not usually this emotional.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Corrin smirked. “It’s not like I don’t get where you guys are coming from. I understand how you would feel, but… I just don’t think I’m him. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Hinoka said, shaking her head. “I know you’re… you. Even if you don’t yet. Whatever Ryoma has planned will solve this, I know it.”

“Yeah, one way or another,” Corrin mumbled.

Before either of them could continue their conversation they were interrupted by the sounds of someone approaching. The tired-looking archer Corrin had seen among the soldiers stepped up to Hinoka, bowing low. She rose back up, looking blankly at the Princess.

“I forgot,” she said after a moment.

“Is she for real?” Corrin asked.

“Yes,” Hinoka sighed, blushing a little. “Setsuna’s one of my retainers. She’s great shot, but she’s a little… air-headed.”

“Aw, thank you, Princess,” the archer, Setsuna said with a smile.

Corrin snickered as Hinoka groaned, running a hand down her face. Setsuna, for her part, just beamed obliviously at the clearly misunderstood statement.

The retainer was wearing similar clothing to that of Prince Takumi, except of a noticeably lower quality. She wore a short black kimono over pale blue tights, with a strange skin of some sort wrapped around her middle beneath her belt. Her quiver of arrows hung from her hip, and she carried her bow in one hand. Her short pale blue hair was a similar hue to her leggings, which had clearly been chosen to be complimentary. 

“Think, Setsuna,” Hinoka said slowly. “You had something to tell me, you came over here, and…”

“And… Oh!” the archer said. “Right! The villagers are ready to go. Lord Ryoma says to mount up. Because he’s spotted Reina in the distance.”

Hinoka sighed, glancing apologetically to Corrin.

“I have to go and find my pegasus,” she said.

“Sure,” Corrin smiled. “We’ll talk more when we get back.”

Hinoka stopped for a moment before blushing, her face breaking into a huge smile.

“You mean that?” she asked hopefully.

“Why not?” he shrugged. “Can’t hurt any.”

She nodded, her smile not dropping as she turned and strode towards the crowd of villagers, where Yuzu had left their pegasai under the watchful eyes of the other soldiers. Setsuna lingered for a moment, eying Corrin curiously.

“Are you really him?” she asked. “Are you Kamui?”

“So I’ve been told,” he said with a sigh.

“Good,” was all she said before turning and following Hinoka.

And leaving a very confused Corrin to shake his head as he watched the two women leave.

“What a strange lady.”

“You said it,” he agreed, glancing over his shoulder.

Selkie grinned down at him, displaying her elongated canines as she clasped her hands behind her back.

“You coming with us, too?” he asked conversationally.

“Nope,” she chirped. “I’m going to go and keep looking for my daddy. Which way is south?”

Corrin glanced up at the setting sun, or as close as he could without his eyes burning like they were on fire, to get his bearings before pointing to his right.

“That way,” he said. “Roughly. Want me to see if someone has a map?”

“Nah,” Selkie said airily. “It’s more fun without one.”

Corrin chuckled, shaking his head a little. He was so tired at this point that he didn’t even jump when Selkie surprised him by leaning down and giving him a big hug, throwing her arms around him and squeezing with no regard to his injuries. He just reached up, cupping the back of her head with his left hand and ruffling her hair a little before she pulled back.

“Take care of yourself, Selkie,” he said.

“You too, Corrin!” she laughed, her voice growing distant behind him. “I hope we get to play again!”

Other Sky Knights were beginning to land among and around the villagers now, Hoshidan soldiers beginning to fill the area around the village. Corrin spotted Kaze making his way towards him, and with a tired grunt he pushed himself back to his feet. The flight back to Shirasagi was a few hours, so at least he’d get a chance to rest for a while before he had to deal with the Hoshidan royals again.

*

In the Krakenburg Library a loud, haggard sigh echoed around the stacks of files on the ground floor. Leo was looking for… he honestly didn’t even remember anymore. He was just hoping that he’d remember if he saw it.

The last two weeks had been hell.

Leo’s siblings had barely been sleeping, they were so consumed with worry over Corrin. He knew firsthand, because he couldn’t sleep either and kept running into them in the dead of the night. Elise had even taken to reading in the Library at strange hours, Leo often finding the young girl slumped over the fiction novels on the higher floors in the small hours of the morning. Camilla was a wreck, liable to explode at anyone for the smallest things. Just that week alone she had lectured Leo for almost fifteen minutes about being late to dinner. The fact that he’d been on time that night and she was lecturing him about being late more than a month ago was apparently irrelevant. And Xander… well, Leo had never seen their oldest sibling train so much in his life, not even when he was preparing to enter the Knighthood. It was worrying how much he was pushing himself.

Nohr’s second Prince breathed another, softer sigh as he leaned back against the stacks of books and ledgers, massaging his temples with his fingertips as he tried to focus.

What happened to Corrin was a serious problem, yes. But until they figured out who had him, where he was and even if he was still alive they couldn’t act. Especially not with the magic field surrounding Hoshido. And even though Corrin was missing they still had a nation to run. Every day their father unloaded more and more responsibility for the daily running of the kingdom on them, while he did what Leo didn’t know. What he did know was that the three older royals, himself, Camilla and Xander, were being pushed to breaking point worrying about Corrin and still trying to run the country.

Fortunately, they had their retainers to support them.

“Lord Leo! I believe I’ve located the cursed tome we were questing for!”

Leo opened his eyes as Odin came around the corner, his yellow robes swishing theatrically as he dropped to one knee and presented the Prince with one of the many ledgers off the shelves.

“You were correct!” he continued. “It appears that the Gery family did indeed offer less than usual three years ago in their tithes! However the following year they gave twice as much as usual.”

“Good work,” Leo nodded, suddenly remembering what pointless busy work they were doing. “Now we just need to cross-reference this with the treasury reports and we’ll know if they still owe any taxes or not.”

If not for the retainers support, the Nohrian royals would surely have broken down long ago. Laslow had always been essential to Xander’s work, but the steel-haired man had become even more-so in the last week, deflecting much of the superfluous things that Xander didn’t have the time or focus for and in most cases simply taking care of them himself. Peri, despite being wholly unstable in Leo’s opinion, had been assisting in keeping the nobility of the Nohrian Court occupied thanks to her own family’s connections, leading hunts in the forests to the south and similar affairs. Selena, too, was playing peacekeeper between Camilla and the Court, the acid-tongued woman ensuring there were no misunderstandings with Camilla’s current disinterest with the Court. Odin was admittedly proving far more adept at clerical work than Leo had ever thought the man capable of, surprising him with his keen insight into the running of a country. Elise’s retainers Effie and Arthur were both working to maintain the peace in Windmire while also supporting the young princess emotionally.

Which left Beruka and Niles. Leo wasn’t entirely sure what Camilla had Beruka doing, but he had seen the diminutive woman around the castle more lately. Leo just had to trust that Camilla wasn’t putting her talents to waste. Niles, though, was the busiest out of all of them. He was using every lead, every contact, every favor he had to get any information on Corrin’s whereabouts he possibly could. Leo hadn’t seen the one-eyed archer in days he’d been so busy in Windmire’s slums, and he knew for a fact that Niles had left the capital multiple times following leads.

Leo shook his head, focusing on the task at hand. It was late, and he was exhausted. The sooner they got this done the sooner he could return to lying awake waiting for word from Niles.

“Right,” he said. “We need the financial reports from the last two years regarding tithes, they should be on the top shelf of the fifth stack somewhere. If you find those I can-”

“Odin!? Odin, are you in here!?”

Both men froze at the angry tone calling out for the mage, their eyes meeting. It was Selena. And she sounded mad.

“What did you do this time?” Leo hissed.

“N-nothing!” he hissed in reply.

“Odin I know you’re in here!”

Leo rolled his eyes, tucking the ledger that his retainer had brought him under one arm. Selena and Odin thought they were being secretive about their relationship, but Leo was a very observant man. It was in their body language around each other, the fleeting glances they gave each other. The pair might have the rest of the group fooled, but not Leo. Besides, if he caught them making out in the Library, hiding in the shelves, one more time he was going to light Odin’s cape on fire.

“I think I can manage to finish this myself,” he said, his voice slightly louder than usual. “Why don’t you call it a night, Odin?”

The blonde mage’s face fell, going slack for a moment before he broke into a grin.

“Very well, my Lord Leo,” he declared. “I wish you the best of evenings! Selena, my friend, I am here!”

With that he was gone, the sounds of conversation following the two of them out of the library while Leo stood, staring up at the stacks instead. He glanced at the large tome in his hands and resigned himself to another late night. He didn’t want to sleep anyway.

*

Outside of the library Odin and Selena made it barely a few feet before she dragged him into a window alcove in the outer corridor, pressing herself flush against him and burying her head in his shoulder.

“Gah! Selena, we’re in public-”

“Don’t care,” she growled. “After the week I’ve had I don’t care. I just need… a moment.”

Odin sighed, wrapping his arms around her. Despite her prickly nature he’d learned long ago that Selena was actually quite soft on the inside and needed a lot of support. Of course she’d kill him if he ever said that out loud, but he knew she appreciated him. Most days.

Selena sighed again, scrunching up Odin’s cloak beneath her hands.

“What are we supposed to do?” she asked quietly.

“There’s not much more we can do,” Odin said, forgoing his usual theatrics. “It’s not like we can just march into Hoshido and say ‘hey can we have Corrin back, please?’”

Selena snorted a laugh, relaxing a little.

“If anyone’s stupid enough to do something like that, it’s you,” she said without looking up.

“Hey, I do seem to recall someone being there with me every time I did stupid stuff when we were young,” Odin said.

“What kind of ‘fated companion’ would I be if I didn’t follow you?” she asked, finally stepping back with another sigh.

Odin saw his chance, deciding to use his powers for good for a change and striking his favorite pose, his hand outstretched as he smiled devilishly.

“Selena! A spell of gloom has ensnared you! Hold and allow me to dispel it! Depart or be destroyed, evil magic! Release Selena from her torment! Blast! It remains unaffected! I must prepare another chant...”

She giggled a little, shaking her head and trying to hide her smile.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s really bugging you?” he offered, dropping his pose.

“I'm fine, Odin. I was just feeling lonely. It’s… been a rough week, and I miss our homeland. You know the one. It's so very out of reach... I guess I'm just a little homesick.”

Odin nodded sagely, cupping his chin in thought.

“Ah, yes. Homesickness is a mortal affliction. Be careful lest it overtake you.”

The redhead stepped around him, looking out the window at the weak Nohrian moonlight, so unlike that of their homeland.

“Do you never feel that way?” Selena asked over her shoulder.

“No. That demon has yet to lay its infernal hands upon me,” Odin grinned. “Lord Leo’s been keeping me far too busy for that.”

“Oh, I wish I was the same,” Selena sighed, resting her forehead against the glass now. “Lady Camilla’s been inconsolable, and even the Court has started taking the hint… All I have left to do is train and watch her brood…”

“Then we must convene the Justice Cabal and seek a solution!” Odin declared suddenly.

Selena glanced over her shoulder again, frowning. Odin simply grinned, holding out his hand expectantly.

“I’m going to regret this, but whatever,” she sighed, taking his hand.

Odin grinned, leading Selena out of the Library Tower and into Krakenburg proper, before they ascended to Prince Xander’s rooms. Selena slowed a little when she figured out where they were, but Odin just gave her hand a squeeze and led on, until they stopped out the front of Laslow’s suite.

“This was your plan?” Selena sighed. “We go talk to Laslow?”

“Indeed!” Odin laughed triumphantly. “The three of us are Nohr’s Justice Cabal! Between us there’s nothing we can’t overcome!”

“You don’t think that it’s a little late?” Selena asked.

“Of course not,” Odin shrugged. “I know for a fact he barely sleeps these days. Besides, you can see the light under his door.”

Selena shook her head as Odin pounded on the door without any further discussion, not waiting for an answer before he pushed it open.

“Laslow!? Laslow, my friend, we have come to convene the Justice Cabal!”

Selena followed much more reluctantly, taking the room in in a glance. Laslow’s armor was discarded in a corner atop his shield, his sword leaning against the wall next to the pile. His suit, the one he wore when he was running errands for Prince Xander, was thrown haphazardly on the back of his sitting room’s sofa. Dirty plates and cups were piled up near the door, and the whole room felt as if he hadn’t been taking care of it.

“Stop shouting,” Laslow groaned, stepping out of his bedchambers. “I just managed to convince Prince Xander to get some rest, I don’t need you waking him up again.”

Laslow looked tired. His skin was pallid and he had large bags under his usually energetic eyes. He stepped into the sitting room wearing nothing but a pair of light trousers, the scars crisscrossing his toned chest and arms shining in the weak lamplight. It looked like he had lost some weight, as well, his muscles much smaller than Odin remembered.

He yawned, running a hand through his hair as he reached for a pitcher of water, drinking straight from the jug.

“I had thought that we should discuss the matter of Prince Corrin,” Odin started. “After all, we three are-”

Laslow choked on his water, coughing and spluttering as he held up a hand to forestall Odin. He pressed a finger to his lips before pointing to the room he’d just come from.

“Laslow?” someone called from within. “Is everything alright?”

Odin’s face went instantly red and Selena sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as a young woman, wrapped in nothing but one of Laslow’s bedsheets, came to the door with a look of worry on her face. She was one of the palace’s kitchen maids, if Odin’s memory served; quite the looker, too. Laslow had gotten much better at picking up women since their youth, it seemed.

“Ah, fret not, my dear,” Laslow assured her with a wink. “It is nothing that can’t wait for tomorrow. Why don’t you head back to bed, and I’ll be right there.”

The maid nodded hesitantly, giving Odin and Selena a curious glance before turning back and disappearing into Laslow’s room. As soon as she was gone Laslow groaned, blushing bright red and hiding his face in his hands.

“I can’t believe you,” Selena groaned without looking up.

“I can’t believe you two chose now of all times…” he moaned.

“Is this really the time to be… to be…” Selena spluttered, trailing off.

“We all have different ways of blowing off steam,” Laslow sighed and shrugged. “I would have thought after all these years you wouldn’t be surprised by this anymore.”

“Er, yes, we’ll, ah, come back… later,” Odin stammered, pointedly looking away from his friend.

“Better come back tomorrow,” Laslow laughed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“Gawds!” Selena hissed, grabbing Odin by the wrist and stomping to the door. “You never change!”

“We can’t all be innocent children forever, Selena,” Laslow called after them. “Come see me just after dawn, before breakfast! I think I should have some free time then!”

Odin winced as Selena slammed the door behind them, making no effort to hide her presence as she stomped back to the stairs. Laslow’s promiscuity had always bothered her, but given her current mood…

“Well, this plan backfired terribly,” Odin muttered to himself.

Usually Laslow had far less luck with the ladies. Sure, he did manage to score often enough to stop him from giving up, but the timing here… Odin sighed, preparing to spend another evening listening to his old friend rant. At least he still had some wine stashed in his room.

*

In Krakenburg Corrin’s apartment was empty and devoid of warmth, despite the young woman in maids’ clothes sitting on the sofa in the living area. She sighed, looking around the immaculate room, the bedrooms and bathroom in much the same shape.

Felicia was lost.

Without Corrin there she didn’t know what to do. Ever since she was a girl serving him had been her life, her and her sister both. She had no doubt that Flora would simply go about her daily duties, waiting for Corrin to come home, but Felicia… she couldn’t. She’d just make a mess.

With a great, heaving sigh the maid lowered her face into her hands.

In the end, she’d failed him. After everything he had done for her, protecting her from the soldiers that were once stationed with them at the Northern Fortress, helping her to become a better and more confident maid, simply being there for her and treating her like family, she had failed him. Corrin had been captured because Felicia had been stupid and slow and clumsy.

With a sniffle that turned into a broken growl she reached down, clamping her hands around her ankles and squeezing.

If only she wasn’t so clumsy… If only she had the poise and grace of her sister…

Felicia sighed, sitting back up and hugging her knees to her chest. The temperature in the room fell, crystals of ice beginning to form on the windows as Felicia let herself fall into despair.

It had been two weeks now, two long weeks with no word. She couldn’t take it anymore, not another day…

She leapt up to her feet as the door to the apartments opened with a squeal, the frozen hinges protesting as they were forced open.

“Niles! Thank the Dusk Dragon! Where is-”

Felicia froze as a hulking, heavily muscled shadow pushed its way into the room, the stink of cheap wine preceding it.

“Well, well… so these’re the runt’s rooms, huh?”

Hans slurred as he stomped into the apartment, looking around with unfocused eyes. Felicia hesitated as the brute came further into the apartment, looking around with a cruel smirk on his face. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage, and stepped into his path. Hans started, blinking down at her before his grin widened.

“Hans, you have no business in Lord Corrin’s rooms,” Felicia said evenly, copying the tone her sister used to reprimand her so often. “Please leave. You are showing great disrespect for his personal space and privacy.”

Hans guffawed, taking another step and forcing Felicia to retreat.

“But he ain’t here, is he?” Hans growled. “He’s… probably dead in Hoshido. Leavin’ you here… all alone… what a waste…”

Felicia shuddered, resisting the urge to gag as she retreated another step. His breath was like being slapped in the face, the stink of alcohol making her eyes water.

“Hans, you need to leave,” she insisted, her voice far weaker now than it had been before.

“You don’t sound too sure of that, girl,” Hans guffawed, stepping forward again. “’sides, you can’t order me around. I’m a Retainer of the King. Look, all official and everything.”

As Hans spoke he held up his hand, King Garon’s seal glinting weakly in the lamplight on the signet ring around his pinky. Felicia gasped, eyes widening. They… they had failed! And Hans had been given such a great honor!? It didn’t make any sense-

Suddenly Hans surged forward, his meaty hand wrapping around Felicia’s throat and lifting her off the ground. She tried to gasp, her hands flying up to try and break the iron grip around her neck, futilely clawing at his hand and wrist as she kicked in the air. Hans grunted, frowning in dissatisfaction.

“Bah, no fun,” he growled. “You really thought I came up here just to see the runt’s rooms? I had my eye on you since the Canyon, girl. You could at least make me work for it…”

He threw her backwards onto the floor, Felicia letting out a pained cry and bouncing against the far wall before curling up, clutching her bruised throat and coughing painfully. She glanced up, Hans looming over her with a cruel smirk on his face.

“You ain’t even worth me takin’ off my belt,” Hans muttered, a sour look on his face. “I should just kill you and-”

“Get out.”

Hans whirled at the voice, tensing up as a shadowy form dropped from the ceiling. Princess Camilla’s retainer Beruka, clad only in a tight black top and her usual baggy pants, crouched on the ground for a moment before standing, staring down the far larger Hans with her usual impassive face.

“Get out,” she repeated.

“Oh?” Hans laughed. “You gonna make me, girl? You just wait your turn, I’ll get to you when I’m-”

“Lady Camilla asked me to watch over Prince Corrin’s maid,” Beruka said impassively. “I will kill you if you touch her again. Get out.”

Hans actually laughed, stepping forward menacingly. Beruka moved to meet him, the tip of her dagger stopping mere millimeters from Han’s eye. Both froze, glaring at each other over the dagger.

“I won’t repeat myself again,” Beruka said, her tone never changing.

“Do you know who you’re messin’ with, girl?” Hans growled softly.

“I don’t care,” Beruka responded. “Lady Camilla gave me an order. That ring on your finger is the only reason I didn’t already kill you. Give me an excuse.”

Hans smirked, stepping back and holding up his hands nonthreateningly.

“Another time, girl,” he said to Felicia over his shoulder.

With that he stalked from the room, leaving the door open behind him. Felicia sat up slowly, coughing again as she looked up at Beruka.

“T-thank you,” she rasped.

“I know you can fight,” she said, ignoring Felicia’s thanks. “Next time fight back.”

Felicia nodded, watching the slight woman silently cross the room and close the door, drawing the bolt securely.

“And start locking the door,” Beruka added, melting back into the shadows.

Felicia sniffled miserably, drawing her knees back up to her chest and remaining on the floor, the temperature in the room dropping again.

*

It was getting quite late by the time Corrin arrived back at Shirasagi, night well and truly having fallen. The air had a biting chill in it that Corrin’s ragged cloak couldn’t quite repel, but the darkness was familiar and soothing. At last, his eyes had stopped burning.

He slipped off the back of the Pegasus he and Kaze were riding, Rinkah doing the same from behind whatever Hoshidan soldier she’d been stuck with, giving the man a dirty look before assuming her usual position at Corrin’s shoulder. Glaring at everything that moved.

Corrin hesitated at the edge of the light being cast by the lamps in the Pegasus Stables, breathing a sigh out his nose as he watched Hinoka and Ryoma laughing, Sakura trying to stifle her giggles behind her hand. They were a family he had no memory of, yet still they insisted he was a part of it. Well, they did; his other assumed brother clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

“What are you waiting for?” Rinkah snapped.

Corrin arched a brow at her, grinning a little. It was still funny to him, the way she spoke to him. No one in Nohr would have spoken to him like that if they knew who he was. But Rinkah spoke as if they were equals, and held nothing back from him. He found it refreshing.

Kaze smiled encouragingly, patting him on the shoulder.

“Come, Prince Corrin,” the ninja said. “Let’s put an end to your worries.”

He sighed and nodded, stepping into the light and joining the Hoshidan royals. Ryoma looked up as he approached, clearing his throat.

“It appears we are back earlier than I expected. The Queen is currently recharging the magical barrier around Hoshido, and will be indisposed for some time yet.”

“Very well,” Corrin shrugged. “Is there somewhere I can wait, or shall I just stand in the stables until she’s ready?”

Ryoma’s face split into a grin as Hinoka barked out a laugh.

“Why don’t you take a bath?” she suggested. “We’re all going to take a break before we meet again in the Throne Room. I’ll have one of the apprentices show you to the baths. Emma!”

A young girl scrambled forwards from where she was feeding and watering the pegasai, tripping over herself in her haste. She wore a simple short white and blue kimono, her long brown hair held back from her face with a big red bow. Corrin arched his brow at the girl’s obviously Nohrian name, but said nothing as she bowed to Ryoma and Hinoka before snapping to attention.

“Y-yes, Princess!” she squeaked nervously.

“This is Corrin,” Hinoka said, waving her hand in his direction. “See to him and his friends while he’s here. Be polite, he’s my brother.”

Emma’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping when she turned to look at the dirty, disheveled stranger standing next to her Prince and Princess.

“Is… are you… I… Ka… Prince Ka-” she stammered.

Corrin cut her off, crossing his arms and glaring down at her.

“Corrin,” he grunted. “I swear, do I have to paint it on my chest or something?”

“Get used to it,” Hinoka laughed. “Everyone here still remembers you as ‘Kamui’.”

“I can change that,” Corrin deadpanned. “Very, very fast. You. Emma.”

“Y-yes!?” she squeaked, jumping a little.

“Can you please take me someplace I can bathe? I haven’t had a proper bath in a week and I stink. Also, I will need some new clothes. Black, preferably.”

“Already settling right in, I see,” Ryoma chuckled. “We will send for you when preparations are complete. Until then feel free to relax. Kaze, keep an eye on him.”

With that Ryoma, Sakura and Hinoka left the stables, Hinoka loudly talking about how she was heading right to the baths as she left, leaving Corrin surrounded by Hoshidans watching him with varying levels of curiosity and hostility. He glanced over his shoulder at Rinkah, who met his gaze with a snort.

“And you?” he asked. “What are you going to do?”

“Follow you,” she frowned, crossing her arms.

“Very well,” Corrin shrugged. “Lead on, Emma.”

“Y-yes!”

The young girl spun on her heel, walking very woodenly out of the stables. Corrin and Kaze chuckled a little at her nerves, Rinkah just rolling her eyes and following behind. Emma led them through the labyrinthine Shirasagi without any pause or hesitation, Corrin becoming hopelessly lost again very fast. He glanced down at Emma, finding her sneaking a glance at him. She squeaked, pointedly looking away and blushing heavily.

“So… Emma, huh?” Corrin said conversationally. “That’s a Nohrian name, right?”

The girl slowed, her posture drooping.

“Y-yes, milord,” she said softly.

“Good,” Corrin said, patting her on the back. “Makes me feel more at home.”

Emma looked up at him in confusion, Corrin grinning back down at her.

“I was raised in Nohr,” he explained. “I was feeling a little homesick, honestly.”

“Oh! I’m glad I could help!” Emma laughed.

“So how’d you get the name?” Corrin asked.

“My father was Nohrian,” Emma explained. “My mother is from Izumo. In the south. She’s still there now, but I travelled to Hoshido to become a Sky Knight!”

“That’s an admirable dream,” Kaze piped up from behind them.

“Indeed,” Corrin chuckled. “I used to dream of becoming a Nohrian Knight myself. Hopefully I can still enter the Knighthood when I get back.”

“Y-you’re… going back?” Emma asked nervously.

“Of course,” Corrin said. “It’s home. I just don’t know when I’m going back. I seem to be being held hostage by Hoshidans.”

“I’d hardly say you’re a hostage,” Kaze chuckled.

“See?” Corrin whispered, leaning down close to Emma’s ear. “They even sent one of their ninja to make sure I don’t escape…”

Emma giggled, clamping her hands over her mouth to try and stifle her laughter as Kaze sighed. Corrin glanced back, smiling apologetically at the grinning ninja.

“Here we are,” Emma said brightly.

They had stopped in front of a large sliding door, lit from within. Corrin glanced down at the girl questioningly.

“This is my room?” he asked.

“No!” Emma laughed. “It’s the Royal Baths! I’ll take your friends to the servants’ bath. Only the Hoshidan royal family is allowed inside. I’ll come back with a change of clothes for you, Prince Corrin. Please, enjoy the baths.”

Emma proceeded to lead Kaze and Rinkah away, the Flame Tribe warrior hesitating and giving Corrin a strange look before snorting and following.

“You tell whoever’s taking care of my laundry to be gentle with my cape!” Corrin called after them.

He turned back to the door, sliding it open and stepping into what appeared to be a changing room. He was struck instantly by the warm, damp smell, the humidity in the air clinging to his skin and clothes and leaving no illusions in his mind about what was within. A wall of shelves full of baskets sat to his left, piles of towels and linen on the other wall. The wall opposite the entrance had two more doors, one on either side, one obscured by a blue curtain and one by a red one. The room was lit by hanging lanterns, swaying lazily above the benches situated in the middle. Corrin stepped down onto the lower stone floor, sitting down on one of the benches with a tired sigh. He gave an even greater sigh of relief when he kicked off the boots that Rinkah had provided him, wiggling his toes in satisfaction.

“What are you doing here?”

Corrin glanced back over his shoulder at the irate voice, the young Prince he’d met upon arrival glaring down at him. Takumi was wearing a light blue bathrobe, holding a bucket that looked like it contained soaps and cleaning cloths.

“All of a sudden I’m glad I finished,” the Hoshidan Prince snapped. “They’ll apparently let anyone use these baths these days.”

“Give it a rest, Takumi,” Corrin sighed, undoing his cape-sash. “I get it. You don’t like me. As soon as Ryoma’s done whatever he plans to do about my memories, I’ll leave. I want to be here about as much as you want me to be, so just… give it a rest.”

Takumi froze, going rigid before letting out a long sigh as Corrin continued to undress.

“There are more robes in the pile over there,” the Hoshidan prince said, his tone softer. “And remember to clean yourself at the trough before you get into the bath.”

Corrin glanced up suspiciously, eyes narrowing as he nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Forget it,” Takumi said. “I know I’ve been… standoffish since you got here. Nohr’s done a lot to hurt my nation, and I may have been… a little rude. I hope you can forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Corrin sighed. “I’m sure if our roles were reversed I’d be suspicious, too.”

“Still,” Takumi insisted. “To make it up I’ll give you some advice. The bath on the left is outdoors, and has an incredible view of the night sky. You should give it a try.”

Corrin stopped, turning to fact the other Prince.

“Thank you, Takumi,” he said honestly. “And… sorry about being rude before.”

“Don’t worry,” Takumi said, smiling. “After all, we may just be brothers. I will take my leave. I’ll… see you in the Throne Room later.”

Corrin nodded, waiting for Takumi to leave before he pulled down his pants. He sighed, studying the tattered pants for a moment before tossing them into a basket with the rest of his clothes, carefully folding his cape and placing it atop them. Then he grabbed a random assortment of what appeared to be soap from a cursory sniff, a rag to wash himself down with, and a small blade he assumed was to shave with. He stepped through the left doorway, pushing aside a red curtain as he did so. Taking his time, Corrin cleaned himself and shaved carefully at the trough of warm water on one side of the room, perching on a low wooden stool to do so.

Deciding he was clean enough, Corrin stood and stretched, glancing at his body in the mirror as he unceremoniously shoved the wet hair out of his face. As he’d thought, the wound he’d suffered at the Bottomless Canyon had left quite the scar, the large pink welt standing out splendidly compared to his pale flesh and the multitude of smaller training scars he’d gotten from Xander and Gunter. With a sigh he ran his fingers over the puckered flesh, letting out a small his at the stab of phantom pain that lanced through his side. Shaking his head, Corrin turned away from the mirror, hiding himself with a small towel, and stepped through another sliding door into a hazy outdoor bath.

It was just as Takumi had said; a beautiful view of the stars hung over his head. Corrin stared enraptured at the night sky, smiling a little to himself as he slowly crossed to the bath. The night sky in Hoshido was something he wasn’t quite used to yet. It was entrancing and mesmerizing. To think that the Hoshidans got to enjoy this sky every night actually made him somewhat jealous…

“Mother? Is that you- ah! C-Corrin!?”

Corrin glanced down at the bath at the sound of splashing, two figures already in the water. Hinoka and Sakura stared up at him with wide eyes and gaping mouths, frozen. Clearly they found his pale skin and scars to be a little bit of a shock. At first Corrin had felt a little strange about the mixed bathing in Hoshido, but after experiencing it with Rinkah he was prepared this time. It was still a little embarrassing, but he stepped into the water, letting it sink up to his shoulders and letting out a contented sigh.

“Ahhh, this is heavenly,” he groaned, leaning back against the edge of the bath.

“Wh-wha-what are you doing!?” Hinoka shouted.

“What?” Corrin asked innocently. “Doesn’t… isn’t this… what you do in Hoshido?”

“Of course not!” Hinoka cried. “Who on earth gave you that idea!?”

“B-but…” Corrin stammered, starting to blush now himself. “I… Rinkah… Takumi said-“

“I… I can’t be a bride anymore!” Sakura sniffled, shrinking away from Corrin.

“Takumi!” Hinoka roared, leaping up in the water.

The older Princess instantly blushed to her ears, shooting back into the water and glaring at Corrin as she wrapped her arms about her shoulders to hide herself.

“Get out!” she shrieked.

 “Oh gods I’m so sorry!” Corrin yelled, racing from the bath in a spray of water.

He didn’t stop running until he was back in the changing room, almost slipping over multiple times in the process. In the change room he ran into Ryoma, wearing nothing but a towel, too, and doubled over laughing. The oldest Prince held his stomach as he rocked back and forth, erupting into a new fit of laughter when he saw the look on Corrin’s face.

“Were you in on this!?” Corrin snarled, desperately trying to readjust his towel.

“O-of course not!” Ryoma roared with laughter. “I heard screaming a-and… I’ll… I’ll make sure Takumi is properly… p-punished… but it’s still funny!”

Ryoma took a few deep breaths, calming himself with a few chuckles sneaking out when he glanced at Corrin again.

“For future reference, blue is the men’s side,” he said. “I think it’s just about time. Why don’t you get dressed and we can head to the Throne Room? Emma dropped those off.”

Corrin nodded woodenly before he and Ryoma proceeded to get dressed. As per his request Corrin had been provided a simple black kimono and matching pants, similar to the gi that Kaze had provided him. He felt a brief spike of anxiety when he didn’t find his cape, but he decided to trust that Emma would take care of it. As they were getting ready to leave and Corrin was pulling his boots back on Ryoma pulled the red curtain back, leaning into the women’s side of the baths.

“Okay, we’re leaving!” he called laughingly. “It’s safe now!”

Hinoka shouted something back that sounded violent and vulgar, but Corrin didn’t quite catch it. He sighed, shaking his head as he and a laughing Ryoma left the baths. Emma was waiting outside, innocently falling into step behind the two royals as they walked.

“Well, they’re never going to talk to me again,” Corrin sighed.

“I’d say they’ll be madder at Takumi than you,” Ryoma chuckled. “But do yourself a favor and do not under any circumstances spar with Hinoka for the next week.”

*

A little later Corrin stood with his arms crossed in front of the ivory Hoshidan throne, a little way away from the rest of the Hoshidan royals. Hinoka was openly glaring at Takumi, who was doing his best to project an air of innocence while struggling not to laugh. Sakura was literally trying to hide behind Hinoka from Corrin, sneaking glances at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, while Ryoma just stood and did his best not to laugh at the entire situation.

In a strange way it was almost like being back in Nohr. The siblings were all obviously close, the same as the Nohrian Royal Family was, but it was still different. Alien. Corrin felt like he didn’t belong.

Queen Mikoto gave Ryoma a questioning glance, but he simply grinned and shook his head. She smiled and chuckled softly, moving aside from the throne as Ryoma stepped up.

“Corrin,” she called. “This throne is the symbol of Hoshido. It is said to have miraculous powers, to be able to return anything to its original form.”

“Fascinating,” Corrin deadpanned.

“I think it might cure you of your affliction,” Ryoma said.

“That’s brilliant!” Hinoka laughed. “Why didn’t I think of that!?”

“At least we’ll know if he’s lying,” Takumi mumbled.

Sakura watched on silently, observing the whole ordeal.

“That’s it?” Corrin asked. “You… just want me to sit on the throne? Then I can go home?”

Ryoma nodded, Mikoto reaching out to offer Corrin a hand up onto the dais. He ignored her outstretched hand, grunting a little as he pushed himself up and approached the throne. He unceremoniously fell into the seat, no longer caring how disrespectful he was being.

“I still expect you to make good on your promise,” Corrin said, looking up at Ryoma from his seated position. “I don’t care if you don’t bring me back personally, but… I… uh…”

Corrin’s gaze dropped to the floor, his brow furrowing. Everyone except Takumi stepped forward expectantly, Mikoto laying a hand on Corrin’s shoulder as he shuddered. Sounds assailed him, as well as a thousand sensations, all at once. The fire burned beneath his skin, scorching his veins as everything came rushing back to him at once. A shadowy figure moved out of the corner of his eye like a wisp of smoke, gone before Corrin could focus on it, and he could hear a vicious howl of frustration in his mind reverberating through his very soul.

In the distance he could hear singing. A familiar melody, the one from his dream so long ago, soothing him and driving the darkness that surrounded him away.

Then, all at once, it was over. The young Nohrian Prince slumped forward, resisting the urge to throw up as he panted, drenched in sweat.

“Well,” Corrin said without looking up. “I’ll be damned. You were all telling the truth.”

He glanced up, blinking a few times at Mikoto before breaking into a warm smile.

“Hello, mother. It’s… been a while, huh?”


	10. Chapter 10

Corrin stood in a strange room that was at once familiar and unfamiliar, clenching his eyes closed and waiting for the world to stop spinning around him.

He had a headache. One so bad he felt like he’d pass out if he opened his eyes.

Ryoma’s plan of having him sit on the supposedly magical Hoshidan Throne to regain his memories had been successful, in a fashion. It was official, he had his memories back. His strange pseudo-amnesia was cured. But everything had come crashing back to the forefront of his mind at once, and it was, in a word, overwhelming. Glimpses of images flashed before his eyes, a thousand scents, feelings, sounds and thoughts, all assailing his mind at once. He couldn’t focus on anything. In a way, this was worse than the amnesia. At least with the amnesia it had been a lack of something, nothingness. Not this overwhelming sensory assault that he was pretty sure was driving him mad.

He opened his eyes, the weak light from the lamp behind him even searing his vision, but he endured to study the room.

His room.

Or what had once been his room, anyway. It was a child’s room, full of toys and clothes that were little more than distant memories now. Grinning through the seething headache behind his eyes Corrin took a moment to bask in the fact that he actually had memories to call distant.

The room was only small, a single room unlike the suites his siblings had, still attached to the King and Queen’s chambers. It truly was a child’s room. A single shelf stood against one wall atop the tatami flooring. The room itself was clean, but his effects were still strewn about, as if he would have been back years ago. Paper and pencils for drawing, a few plush toys in one corner, his futon, still rumpled from the last time he’d slept in it. Although he was far too big for it now. A rocking horse in the guise of a pegasus sat in another corner, masterfully hand-carved and free of dust. And a single window facing the castle grounds, a forest that, if his fractured memories were right, held a lake at the center.

“So this is where you were.”

Corrin turned away from the window, watching his mother hesitantly step into the room.

“Yes,” he said. “I remembered where it was and… I just needed a little peace. You knew I’d be here?”

Mikoto’s face split into a smile as she chuckled.

“I may be a seer, but it was easy enough to find you with Rinkah standing out front scowling like a gargoyle.”

Corrin scoffed, turning back to the window. After he’d gotten his memories back the pain of being around the other Hoshidans, his siblings, had been unbearable. Every time he looked at them, or they spoke, or he caught the scent of the baths still lingering on them, new memories assailed him like daggers in his brain, too fast for him to make sense of. So he’d acted on instinct and hid in his old room until he calmed down a little.

“Yeah, she’s like a bad smell. I can’t get rid of her,” he chuckled.

“I want you to be comfortable here,” Mikoto said after a moment. “What should we call you?”

Corrin went still for a moment, breathing a long sigh out his nose before answering.

“Corrin,” he said after a moment. “Just because I have my memories back now doesn’t make me a different person. My name is Corrin, but… I am your son. I no longer doubt that.”

They stood in silence for another moment until the sound of Mikoto approaching softly on the tatami broke it.

“I thought you regained your memories,” she said, still smiling.

“Er… kind of?” Corrin said uncertainly.

“Then you should remember there’s no shoes on the tatami,” Mikoto laughed, pointing to his feet.

Corrin glanced down, feeling a stab of guilt as he beheld his dirty boots on the pristine tatami floor. He laughed, kicking off his boots and placing them near the door.

“Sorry, old habits,” he said as he did so. “We wear our boots inside in Nohr. It’s warmer that way.”

As Corrin was walking back to the window he hesitated, squatting down to brush his fingers of the drawing sitting on the floor, where he’d left it a lifetime ago.

“I remember this,” he said wistfully.

“You drew that as a boy,” Mikoto said happily, moving to stand next to him again. “This is your father, this is me, and this is you. You were so excited about it, you wanted to show everyone.”

Corrin smirked, gently picking the old paper up and standing.

“We couldn’t bear to touch a thing in this room after you were taken,” Mikoto said, stepping back. “If we had put your things away, it would have felt like giving up.”

Corrin nodded, holding the faded old drawing out to his mother with a sheepish grin. Mikoto looked confused for a moment, hesitantly taking it.

“I was going to give it to you when I got back,” he explained softly. “At least… I think I was. It’s still kind of hard to recall, but… better late than never, right?”

Mikoto looked down at the picture in her hands for a moment before looking back up at Corrin, her shoulders beginning to tremble as her eyes teared up.

“You’ve grown so much,” she said, her voice shaking. “I can’t believe how h-handsome you’ve become. Just like your… father…”

Corrin sighed, stepping forward and wrapping his mother in a hug. They stood there like that for a moment before Mikoto quieted and Corrin stepped back.

“I don’t remember everything,” he said. “I don’t remember how I ended up in Nohr. I don’t remember my father. I only vaguely remember my brothers and sisters. But… It’ll come back to me now. I’m sure.”

Mikoto smiled and nodded, clutching the drawing close to her chest.

“I’m just so happy to have you back,” she whispered. “We all are. I can scarcely believe it…”

Corrin let out a small groan, running a hand through his hair as his thoughts turned to his Hoshidan siblings.

“I was such a jerk to them today,” he said. “I said and did things… I was rude to Sakura and Ryoma, and so cruel to Hinoka…”

“They will forgive you,” Mikoto promised. “Hinoka especially. There’s no way she could stay angry at her adorable little brother. Ryoma I haven’t seen act so lively since he was a child. And Sakura already looks up to you so much.”

“After just one day?” Corrin scoffed.

“Of course,” she laughed. “She thinks the world of you. They all do.”

Mikoto walked around to Corrin’s front, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“Spend a little time here,” she offered. “Get to know your brothers and sisters. Give them a chance.”

“I will,” Corrin smiled. “But I will go back to Nohr eventually.”

Mikoto’s face fell, and Corrin had to laugh.

“Relax, I’m not leaving permanently,” he chuckled. “But I am in a unique position. Born into the Hoshidan royal family, adopted by the Nohrian one. I could be the bridge that the two nations need. I could bring peace.”

Mikoto reached up and stroked his face, smiling softly. “You will. I’ve seen it. But it makes me so proud to hear you say it aloud.”

“Thanks… mother,” Corrin smirked.

He winced though, as stars blossomed before his eyes, his headache assailing him again. He swayed, catching himself and chuckling ruefully.

“But do you have something that can take the pain away?” he groaned. “I don’t think I’ll get any seep like this.”

*

The next morning Corrin woke as he always did, slowly and reluctantly. He blinked a few times, sitting up and letting the top of the futon fall off of his bare chest as he looked around. He wasn’t in the room he’d had as a child; it hadn’t felt right to sleep in there, especially not at his current age, so Mikoto had had a small suite prepared for him not far from her own quarters. Or whatever the Hoshidan equivalent of a suite was, anyway. It was only two rooms, far smaller than he was used to, but it would suffice. She had also personally prepared a potion to help him sleep, and for the first time in a long time he’d had a good night’s sleep. No dreams. No memories. Just blissful nothingness until he’d opened his eyes.

The room itself was simple, just tatami floors and a small chest of drawers for his belongings on one wall in the inner room. Harwood floors in the outer area, slightly lower than the inner room. Carefully folded and resting on the chest was his cape, and resting atop of it was Ganglari.

Corrin’s tired face set into a scowl as his gaze fell on the weapon, recalling clearly now the way it had stopped him from felling Hans at the Bottomless Canyon. Why it had done that, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he no longer trusted the sword. But, that being said, it had served him perfectly during the siege of the northern village.

He put such thoughts out of his mind, climbing slowly to his feet and giving a great yawn. A knock sounded at his door, and he turned to face it.

“Enter,” he called.

Emma slid the door aside from the bottom in a kneeling position, bowing low before presenting him with a tray of food.

“I have your breakfast Lord Corrin,” she said, finally looking up.

With a little squeak Emma almost upended the tray, and only years of catching Felicia’s similar mishaps made Corrin reach out and steady it.

“I-I-I’m so sorry!” Emma cried.

Her face went red as she carefully placed the tray down before turning on her heel and dashing from the room. Corrin blinked, quirking his head in confusion as he looked down at himself. Just to make sure he was wearing pants. He was indeed wearing pants. With a shrug, he sat down and began to poke at his breakfast.

“I’m sure I’m forgetting something here,” he mumbled.

He picked up the two little sticks that were carefully lined up on the bottom of the tray, studying them before his face.

“Like what the hell are these?”

After a thoroughly confusing breakfast which he ended up eating with his hands, and now fully clothed, Corrin stepped out of his room to find a flustered Emma waiting beside his door. Her gaze inevitably fell to his hip, where Ganglari was strapped.

“Is there somewhere I can do some training?” he asked. “It’s been a while since I’ve just run some drills.”

“Of course, Lord Corrin,” Emma nodded. “Please, follow me. I’ll show you to the training ground that Prince Ryoma and Princess Hinoka use.”

*

Corrin took his first steps out into the grounds of Shirasagi, shielding his eyes from the ever-present glare of the sun as he glanced around. The same forest in the distance that he could see from his window, a niggling memory in the back of his mind telling him that there was a lake at its center. Between the forest and the castle, though, there was a long training ground consisting of a number of rings of hard packed earth and a shooting range for archers. It was a simple affair, much like his own training area back in Nohr, and it made Corrin smile with nostalgia.

There were already a few other people using the grounds. Sakura and a tall, older woman with a scarred face were practicing archery. The older woman, Reina, Corrin had met in passing already; she had led the soldiers to help evacuate the refugees before returning to Shirasagi with them the previous day, and was one of his Mother’s retainers. Her other retainer, Yukimura, he had yet to meet except for the brief encounter on the day of his arrival. Apparently Yukimura was Hoshido’s Royal Tactician, so he was a busy man. What little Corrin had had to do with Reina she had reminded him of Gunter, so he had avoided her. The same young brunette woman that had lingered by Sakura’s side at the village stood not far away, watching patiently. She looked about the same age as the young Princess, probably one of her servants or retainers.

Hinoka, too, was running drills while her retainers watched. Setsuna looked like she would fall asleep at any moment, while a tall, frizzy-haired man with eyes like a smiling cat leaned on a staff next to her in robes that Corrin could remember now belonged to a priest. The older Princess was fully absorbed in her drills, swishing her naginata back and forth as if engaged in battle with multiple foes, the bladed tip of the spear-like weapon make a keen whooshing sound as it cut through the air. She was clearly dressed in her training gear, too, similar to what Rinkah usually wore. Her chest was wrapped in similar bindings to those that the Flame Tribe warrior wore, and she wore simple pants and boots that didn’t hinder her movement. Her toned arms and stomach were on full display as she swung her weapon around, and Corrin had to admit he was impressed by her clearly high level of fitness.

Of course, he mused with a thoughtful frown, nothing compared to the sheer absurdity of Rinkah’s incredible abs…

Hinoka stopped when she noticed Corrin approaching, giving her a wide grin. Sakura noticed him, too, and began to lower her bow, earning a swift smack in the back of the head from Reina. The youngest Princess resumed her stance, Corrin trying not to laugh at the similarities he saw between her and Gunter.

“Morning,” he called cheerily.

“Good morning,” Hinoka greeted, a little more subdued.

“Sorry again about last night,” Corrin said, trying to keep his tone light.

“Forget it,” Hinoka muttered, looking away and blushing. “It wasn’t your fault.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment, Corrin trying not to grin at or stare at the way Hinoka had tied her fringe up from her face in a little tuft at the top of her head, the Princess clearly still embarrassed about the previous evening.

It wasn’t like with Camilla, he realized immediately. He’d had a flash of Hinoka and himself as children pass through his mind the previous evening, so he had little doubt that she was his sister, but… Camilla would have simply laughed off the previous evening’s incident. Actually, she probably would have forced him to stay in the bath with her, knowing his sister. But he didn’t know how to deal with Hinoka yet. He didn’t know how to make this right. Corrin let out a little sigh, seeing no better way out of this awkwardness.

“If you’re willing I could use a sparring partner,” he offered, actively ignoring the advice that Ryoma had given him.

Hinoka glanced up at him, her face taking on a slight grin herself.

“Seriously?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah, sure,” Corrin sighed. “I was just going to run some drills, but since you’re here…”

“Okay, hold on,” she said, turning away.

Corrin, assuming she was just making space to begin the match, drew Ganglari and gave it a few practice swings. He froze when a number of alarmed shouts rang out, making him turn in a circle to see what was wrong. As he faced the others again he was surprised to find the cat-eyed man standing guard in front of Hinoka, Setsuna pointing an arrow at him. Behind them Reina was doing the same while shielding Sakura.

“What?” Corrin asked innocently.

“Put down the sword, Prince Corrin,” the cat-eyed man said slowly.

“I thought we were going to spar,” he said, lowering Ganglari and sheathing it.

“With training weapons,” Hinoka laughed. “It’s okay, Setsuna, Azama. Stand down.”

Both of her retainers did as they were told, Reina doing the same in the distance with a wary look on her face. Hinoka tossed him a spear-shaped stick, taking one up herself and facing him.

“You sparred with real weapons in Nohr?” she asked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Corrin shrugged, giving the long stick a few practice swings through the air the way Gunter had taught him.

“I’m a little rusty with a lance,” he admitted before answering. “And you saw me last night. I didn’t get those scars studying. Actually, I take that back, I have one on my shoulder I got while I was studying. Funny story, my brother Leo came in while I was…”

He trailed off, his grin dropping when he saw the serious look on Hinoka’s face.

“Okay, maybe I’ll tell you that one later,” he shrugged, adopting the ready-stance Gunter had also taught him.

He hadn’t trained with a lance in a while, but Gunter had drilled it into him like everything else. He and Xander both ended up with sour looks on their faces whenever the old Knight had declared they were training with the weapons in Nohr, despite the Crown Prince being far more proficient than Corrin. The memory made him smile slightly as he flexed his fingers against the smooth, hard wood of the training spear.

Across from him Hinoka adopted a totally different stance to his own, shaking her head.

“That’s horrible,” she said.

Corrin shrugged, and they began circling each other.

“Scars are permanent lessons,” he explained. “We’re taught in Nohr that if you got a scar, you did something to deserve it. You screw up, you get hurt. Or you die.”

He punctuated his explanation by darting in low, bringing his training lance up under Hinoka’s guard. She stepped back, flipping her own training weapon down and smacking it hard onto his shoulder. Corrin hissed and hopped back, opening space between them again.

“And if you’d taken that blow in Nohr?” Hinoka asked hotly.

Corrin grinned, switching to a one-handed stance.

“I’d be fighting one-handed,” he said.

Hinoka ducked in faster than Corrin could follow, her lance hooking in behind his leading foot and flipping him onto his back with barely a flick of her wrist.

“Your stance is weak,” she said, offering him her hand.

Corrin smirked, allowing himself to be pulled up. Rather than push his attack immediately the way he’d been taught he pulled back, adopting the same stance again.

“I told you I was rusty,” he said. “Come on, best two out of three.”

Hinoka smirked, shaking her head as she returned to her own starting stance. After a moment she sighed, her smirk being replaced by a melancholy frown.

“It just feels so unfair,” she said. “Everything you went through, all of your suffering…”

Corrin shook his head, a blast of memories and accompanying pain momentarily blinding him. Memories of unfair beatings, whippings and scoldings. But after each of those he remembered Elise sitting with him until he could move again, Xander taking it easy on his training the next day, Leo sneaking him adventure novels, Camilla holding him…

“It wasn’t exactly a picnic at first, but it got better,” he admitted. “As I got older I learned how not to anger the matron at the fortress, and when she finally left I was pretty much allowed my own devices. Plus I always had my brothers and sisters in Nohr to make me feel better.”

They started circling again, Hinoka lashing out first this time. Her spear darted in almost faster than Corrin could see, but instinct brought his own weapon up to deflect the strike. He stepped into her attack, ducking past her and failing to trip her up the same way she had him in their previous match. Instead Hinoka smashed the butt of her spear into his shin, making him curse and hop away from her.

“That doesn’t count as a hit!” he growled indignantly.

Hinoka laughed as they faced each other again, her face far more relaxed than before. She struck again, aiming for Corrin’s chest this time, and he barely had time to smack the blow aside with the haft of his spear before she spun, delivering a crushing kick to his ribs and driving the air from his lungs. He heard the retainers and Emma let out sympathetic sounds as he resisted the urge to double over, resuming his stance as they separated.

“Well, you’re tough if nothing else,” Hinoka smirked.

“Are you kidding?” he laughed, wincing. “I used to take worse beatings to wake me up in the morning. Stop holding back.”

Hinoka grinned again, throwing herself forwards this time. Corrin didn’t even bother trying, simply bracing himself as the tip of Hinoka’s training spear flashed, striking his chest like lightning and knocking him through the air and flat onto his back across the ring. There was no way he would have been able to block the blow anyway.

“Ow,” Corrin managed to groan.

He closed his eyes, trying to decide if the ache in his bruised chest hurt more or if the glare from the sun suddenly assaulting his vision did.

“Are you okay?” Hinoka asked laughingly. “You told me to stop holding back.”

“Yeah, just… need a second,” Corrin groaned, sitting up. “Ryoma wasn’t kidding… ouch…”

He glanced up as a shorter length of wood was dropped in his lap, Hinoka taking the fallen training spear away.

“What’s this?”

“Training sword,” Hinoka called over her shoulder. “That was two out of three, my victory. Hopefully you’re better with a sword.”

“I’ll have you know I’m great with a sword,” Corrin groaned as he clambered back to his feet. “This is nice, though. I never trained like this with my sister in Nohr.”

“Oh?” Hinoka asked, giving her own practice sword a few test swings. “She wasn’t a fighter?”

“No, she was terrifying,” Corrin laughed, massaging his ribs. “I’d go so far as to say that she was the fiercest fighter out of all of us. I’ve only ever seen her fight seriously once, but it was enough. She was always busy in Windmire with the Nohrian Court, though. When she did visit she doted on me endlessly. She’d probably never lift a weapon at me, training or no. It was… a little frustrating. She still sees me as a child, even now.”

Hinoka made a thoughtful sound, frowning as she adopted a two-handed ready stance. Corrin suppressed a grin, slipping instinctively into his own one-handed stance. Hinoka held her practice sword the same way that the men at the Bottomless Canyon had. No doubt it was a common Hoshidan form, which meant he’d seen it and fought it before. This time, he had the advantage.

Stepping forward, Corrin lunged, the tip of his wooden sword flying aside as Hinoka lashed out with a horizontal slash to try and open his guard. Corrin did grin this time, spinning beneath her blade and slipping around her blow, ending their first round with his wooden sword resting against the back of her neck in a manner of seconds. They stood like that for a moment before Corrin chuckled and stepped back.

“You are much better with a sword,” Hinoka admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “Best two out of three, right?”

Corrin smirked, silently saluting her with his sword as he stepped back into his ready stance. Hinoka attacked first this time, a blistering barrage of two-handed high and mid strikes obviously aimed to throw Corrin onto the defensive. With one hand he caught each blow on his own blade, knocking Hinoka’s sword aside each time. She was ready this time, slashing a wide arc at Corrin’s midsection and making him jump back. They both grinned, circling again.

“You’re not half-bad with a sword yourself,” Corrin commented, circling his blade.

Hinoka laughed, closing the distance again with a brutal downward slash that Corrin caught on his blade, deflecting it aside. He circled his sword again as Hinoka drew her own weapon back, both wooden swords meeting again with a thunderous crash that sent fragments of wood flying everywhere.

They danced apart, both laughing and holding the stumps of their ruined practice swords.

“Let’s call that one a draw,” Corrin chuckled.

“My Lady, are you unharmed!?”

“Lord Corrin! Are you okay!?”

Both Corrin and Hinoka turned to their respective names, Azama striding forwards with his staff held up while Emma looked on with worry in her eyes. Over her head she noticed Sakura and Reina watching carefully, and he gave them a cheerful wave.

“I’m fine,” Corrin assured them.

“I’d ask if you want another round, but Ryoma gets mad if I break too many training weapons,” Hinoka laughed bashfully.

“Oh, you’re just afraid I’d beat you again,” Corrin laughed, dropping the remains of his sword.

Hinoka snorted, crossing her arms and grinning again. “Azama, get us two more swords.”

“I’m afraid I must refuse, My Lady. For your own good,” he sighed. “Do you remember what happened last time you ruined your training gear?”

Hinoka frowned as Corrin chuckled.

“Let’s reschedule for a later date, then,” he suggested. “I think I might go for a cool-down run instead.”

Azama cleared his throat, raising one eyebrow at Hinoka as she opened her mouth.

“I’ll, uh, clean up the mess,” she mumbled dejectedly.

“Very well,” Corrin chuckled.

He turned and walked over to the archery range, the young brunette girl glaring at him his entire approach. Reina glanced up, offering him a warm smile and a nod as Sakura fired another arrow into her target.

“Good morning, Lord Corrin,” Reina said. “I’m glad to see you feeling better this morning. Queen Mikoto mentioned you were experiencing some side-effects after regaining your memories.”

“If by ‘side effects’ you mean ‘debilitating, mind-numbing headaches’, then yes,” Corrin laughed.

The twin scars in the shape of a large cross on Reina’s face crinkled as she smiled and laughed along with him.

“Yes, she did mention headaches,” the older woman laughed. “I’m glad to see your sense of humor is unharmed, though.”

Corrin shrugged again, grinning at Sakura.

“Are you free after your training?” he asked.

“Y-yes,” she said meekly, looking down.

“I was wondering if you would like to join me for some tea?” he suggested gently. “If you have time, of course. I’d like to get to know my family a little.”

Sakura perked up at the word ‘family’, nodding excitedly as she smiled in relief.

“Y-yes! Yes, of course!” she said.

“After your training,” Reina chimed in.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Corrin said. “I’ll come find you later, okay?”

Sakura nodded as Corrin turned away again, quirking a brow at the brunette girl’s glare. He stopped short as he came face to face with Emma, still holding a towel and a waterskin for him.

“Er… I’m just going for a run,” he said hesitantly. “Wait here?”

“Of course, Lord Corrin,” the girl said with a bow, backing off.

Corrin shook his head as he began to stretch out his legs. Servants in Hoshido were much more… overbearing. Even after living with Felicia, Flora and Jakob for so long it would take some getting used to.

*

Panting and sweating as he jogged beneath the boughs of the small Shirasagi forest, Corrin let his feet simply carry him wherever they willed as he let his mind empty and focus on putting one foot in front of the other. It was a novel change, getting to go for a run outside rather than down the long, empty corridors of the Northern Fortress, and he had to admit it was nice. The rustling of the leaves overhead, the loamy smell of the earth beneath his feet, the insufferable sunlight filtering through the trees, all of it was so pleasant he felt like running forever. Or rather coming back at night and running forever then. He still hadn’t adjusted to the sun yet.

His memory flashes had quieted now, too, leaving him with a blessedly blank mind as his feet carried him down a winding path through the trees. He recalled there was a lake of some sort in the forest, and the urge to take a dip with no one around was almost overwhelming. He didn’t remember the last time he’d actually been able to swim. Or if he even could swim, but he supposed there was only one way to find out.

Mind now made up, Corrin picked up his pace, the thought of swimming and then drying himself in the sun bringing a smile to his face as he raced to the lake.

His smile faded somewhat, though, when his thoughts turned to his siblings in Nohr. It was a secret fantasy of his that one day the five of them would go to a lake or a beach somewhere and just relax as a family. Maybe with their retainers, but always as a family. That he was going to do it alone now almost felt like a betrayal to them, but as he contemplated turning back he finally emerged from the trees into the sunlight again, and almost tripped over his own feet as he quickly threw his hand up to shield his eyes with a hiss.

Coming to a stop he blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the brighter light. As he willed his eyes not to tear up again a familiar lilting melody floated across the shore to him, making him look up with a squint.

There, on a small dock jutting out into the lake, the hazy, ethereal figure of a woman was singing.

_“You are an ocean of waves, weaving a dream, like thoughts become a river stream…”_

Corrin groaned slightly as a fresh memory brought yet another stabbing headache, but stepped forward anyway. He’d heard this melody in a dream before. The woman’s words were familiar, but subtly different…

A ripple spread out atop the water, leaving the surface of the lake glassy and smooth in its wake from the woman atop the dock, such was the strength of her voice.

_“Yet may the tide ever change, flowing like time, to the path, yours to climb…”_

As Corrin’s vision cleared the hazy form on the dock resolved into that of a young woman, thin and painfully attractive. Her long pale blue hair, the color of the sky, hung down past her hips beneath a strange white head-dress. Her clothes, pure white, were tight and form-hugging. Corrin found them somewhat strange, especially given that her leggings only had a single white legging, her other leg left bare from the hip down. Long gloves reached up to her shoulders, and her top flared out to become something of a dress.

So lost he was in her singing that Corrin didn’t even realize he was still approaching the lake until he stumbled on a rock and yelped as he caught himself. As if he’d closed the lid on a music box the woman’s song stopped, and she spun and turned a frown on him. She stomped up the dock, the trail of her dress flaring out behind her and a golden amulet hanging down from her neck atop her clothes swinging with the motion.

“Yes?” she snapped, glaring up at Corrin.

The Nohrian Prince winced, tempted to resigning himself to being glared at by all the women his own age in Hoshido, but cleared his throat and smiled all the same.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said sheepishly. “I just got lost in your singing. That was a beautiful song.”

Corrin cursed in his head, realizing just how much like Laslow he sounded at the moment and expecting the woman to send him off with a few choice, harsh words, but he gave a small and relieved sigh as the woman’s face softened as she looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on Ganglari’s hilt.

“You must be Prince Corrin,” she said after a moment of studying him.

“I am,” he said quickly. “You have me at a disadvantage, though.”

“I’m Azura,” she said. “A former Princess of Nohr.”

He opened his mouth to respond, hesitating and closing it again as her words registered.

“What, really?” Corrin said, grinning excitedly for a moment before frowning thoughtfully. “Wait. If that were true, surely I would have heard of you. I… don’t remember having three sisters in Nohr…”

“That’s because I was kidnapped by Hoshido just after you were brought to Nohr,” Azura explained. “I’ve been here for a very long time. After you were taken Hoshido retaliated. And failing to get you back, they settled for me. I suppose we’ve both been hostages for most of our lives…”

Much to Corrin’s surprise she spoke without any malice or negativity, simply stating the facts as they were. Despite being taken from her family and her home, and actually remembering it, it appeared Azura had come to terms with her own circumstances. However, given what Corrin now remembered of his own treatment all he could do was wince sympathetically. For such a thin and ethereal-seeming girl to have gone through what he had…

“Gods, I’m so sorry,” he sighed, looking away.

Azura’s gentle laughter made him glance back up, a small grin decorating her face now.

“No, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I may be a hostage, but I’ve lived a happy life. The Queen has always treated me as if I were one of her own children, and the Hoshidan royalty have accepted me as one of their own.”

Corrin didn’t know how to respond, a small twinge of jealousy blossoming in his breast at the thought that she had had so easy a life compared to his. Of course, now that he looked at her, he could see no sign of the intense training he had endured, no scars, no wounds… Her body was thin and toned, but it was the body of a dancer, an artist, not a warrior.

“Do they, now…” he muttered, turning away to look out over the lake.

“Is something the matter?” Azura asked curiously.

“I had thought for a moment that I had found a kindred soul,” Corrin admitted.

“And you no longer feel that way?”

“You have a good life here, right? They don’t treat you like a prisoner, like a weapon… a tool.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, Corrin.”

“Don’t be,” he said, smiling a little as he turned back to her. “After all, I have my brothers and sisters in Nohr, and just the thought of them was enough to ease my pain. I am glad to meet you, though. I am lucky enough to count the rest of the Nohrian royal family as my own family. At the very least I hope we can be friends.”

Azura laughed a little, the sound delicate like wind chimes on the breeze, covering her mouth with one hand.

“You are a strange one,” she chuckled. “I hope that, too.”

The former Nohrian Princess moved back to the lake, humming the tune of her song as she sunk to sit on the edge of the wooden dock. Her bare feet just barely brushed the surface of the lake, sending ripples out from her again as she hummed. There was a strange, dream-like quality to the scene that Corrin could only attribute to her own natural grace and poise. Not a single movement of her lithe limbs was wasted, every one carefully calculated and beautiful. If she wasn’t doing it on purpose Azura would have been the most regal person Corrin had ever met. She glanced back up at him, smiling softly as she chuckled.

“Would you care to join me?”

“Actually, I was planning to swimming and… on second thought, I’d love to.”

Corrin shuffled over on legs starting to ache now that he was finished his run, his movements seemingly crass and oafish in comparison to Azura’s nimble form. He hopped on first one foot and then the other as he pulled off his boots, sighing in relief as he sank down next to her and submerged his feet in the cool water, the sensation sending shudders of pleasure up his spine beneath his sweat-damp gi.

“That feels nice,” he groaned.

“Indeed,” Azura agreed. “We should take now to relax before tonight’s banquet.”

“Banquet?” Corrin parroted curiously.

“They didn’t tell you?” she asked, the ghost of a smile on her face. “There was to be a banquet tonight to celebrate your return, followed by a great festival in the Shirisagi Village at the base of the mountain for the rest of the week.”

“Huh. Not surprising,” Corrin shrugged.

The banquet and the festival were both news to him, but Corrin had guessed that there would be some form of celebration. Now that Mikoto was making an official public announcement about his return it would make things easier for him to bridge the divide between the two nations once things settled down. Of course, getting back into contact with Nohr would be the hard part…

The Nohrian Prince sighed again, leaning back and supporting himself with his arms only to hiss and shade his eyes again.

“Okay, how did you do it?” he asked irritably.

“I’m sorry?” Azura said, taken aback. “Do what?”

“Adjust to the sun!” Corrin growled. “You’re from Nohr, too, right? How did you adjust to the thrice-damned sun!? It’s so bright! It’s driving me crazy!”

Azura looked at him for a moment, her face slack before she smiled, chuckling a little. After a few seconds clearly trying not to, she gave in and burst into laughter, holding onto her stomach as Corrin groaned and tried desperately to shade his eyes, grinning along as well.

*

In the grounds behind Shirasagi Takumi walked, letting his fingertips brush over the bark of the ancient cherry trees he passed beneath. He’d always loved the Cherry Grove, ever since he and his father had played there in his youth. Before Nohr had stolen him away. Now, as a man, the Cherry Grove was a place of peace and tranquility, a place of quiet contemplation that steeled his resolve, reminding him why he hated and fought. It also made for the perfect place to have meetings with the various heads of the clans that supported him, so far removed from the prying eyes and ears of the castle and his brother’s damned ninja.

A few steps behind him Oboro followed as attentively as always, quietly waiting for his word should he need anything.

However, unlike usual Hinata, Takumi’s other retainer, stood with her. Hinata was usually his first choice to lead the troops Takumi was entrusted with; he was young, only a few years older than Takumi himself, but had proven himself against the constant Nohrian raiding parties of Faceless. The son of a prominent line of samurai that had served the Hoshidan royalty for generations, Hinata was the first of his family to actually be a retainer to a member of the royal family. He was a head shorter than Takumi, his dark brown hair messy and long, pinned to the back of his head lazily, and wore a sleeveless black chest plate that showed off his toned, muscular arms. He rested his family’s cherished katana across his shoulders in its sheathe, watching in obvious boredom as Takumi held his meeting.

Takumi’s three closest allies and strongest supporters in the Hoshidan Court, Haitaka, Senno and Daichi, walked with him under the trees, following his winding path through the grove. All three wore plain kimonos in Takumi’s presence, but he knew that they were all powerful and respected warriors.

“Things in the south are going well,” Senno reported, pushing his spectacles further up his thin nose. “We have lost our Nohrian contacts for our trade, but it is only a matter of time before more take their place. I will send some people to reach out once the dust settles.”

Takumi made a thoughtful sound and nodded, looking up at the trees.

“Good,” he said without looking back. “I want the route re-opened. As much as I hate to admit it, their metalwork is far more advanced than our own.”

“If we had access to their stockpiles of ore we would have far more to work with,” Daichi grunted. “My smiths and artisans would benefit greatly having more material to work and practice with.”

“Patience, Daichi,” Takumi said. “Once things calm down after my… ‘brother’ returns to Nohr we will make moves.”

Takumi bristled at having to call the Nohrian prince his brother, but the evidence was there. Corrin was Kamui, as much as he hated to admit it. The Nohrian was his older brother.

Haitaka stepped forward, the quiet warrior bowing slightly before speaking.

“We know that it does not sit well with you, your brother’s fate,” he said, his voice soft. “However know that our trust in you remains unshaken, Prince Takumi.”

Both Senno and Daichi nodded in agreement, and Takumi felt a stirring of pride in his breast. Hoshido would eventually overcome Nohr, especially with men like these at his side.

“I appreciate that. I’ll see you at the banquet tonight, gentlemen.”

*

“I’m not comfortable with this,” Corrin said.

Kaze glanced up with a smirk. “It’s not that bad. It’s really just a heavier version of what you’ve been wearing for the last few days.”

“No, I mean I’m not comfortable with all of this,” Corrin sighed. “This… banquet. Meeting the Hoshidan Nobility. I didn’t even have anything to do with the Nohrian Court. And yes, this kimono is insufferable.”

He and the ninja were in his room, Kaze helping the Nohrian Prince to dress for the evening’s banquet. Emma had disappeared in the afternoon, begging Corrin’s leave to do her own training, leaving him with only Kaze as his attendant. At his insistence they had found a black kimono with small purple highlights among his late father’s possessions, but it was still uncomfortable. He had lived his life as a shut-in, being forced to train in tactics, philosophy and war. Not in courtly manners, and certainly not in Hoshidan courtly manners. He barely knew the basics of Nohrian etiquette, thanks to one of the countless books Leo had leant him. Corrin couldn’t help but shake the feeling he was about to make a royal arse of himself.

“It’s not that bad,” Kaze repeated. “Just keep your head down, eat slowly, do not jam your chopsticks into anything or leave them sitting upright, and you’ll be fine.”

“And if someone talks to me?” Corrin grumbled.

“Talk back,” the ninja suggested glibly.

Corrin let out another sigh, glaring at the other man. Kaze chuckled, shrugging innocently.

“I don’t see why you’re so worried, milord,” he said. “You will be seated between Queen Mikoto and Lady Hinoka at the position of honor. There will be conversation, yes, but most of it will likely be the same inane pleasantries that usually get exchanged at these things.”

“You seem quite confident about that,” Corrin deadpanned.

“I’ve served the royal family for just as long as my brother has,” Kaze explained. “I’ve seen this kind of thing before. I think that the worst I’ve seen was Prince Ryoma being grilled about his love-life by a potential suitor when we celebrated him becoming Samurai General.”

Corrin chuckled a little, before sighing.

“There’s no need to be nervous, Prince Corrin,” the ninja soothed. “I’ll be attending the banquet as a servant with the retainers. If worse comes to worse I can make a scene to take the attention from you.”

Corrin barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re a good friend, Kaze.”

“What else is a servant for?” the green haired ninja shrugged.

“Right, well then…” Corrin sighed. “Lead the way. Slowly. I can barely move in this stupid thing.”

Kaze laughed, holding the door open for Corrin. “You get used to it.”

As the duo walked through the hallways of Shirisagi they chatted, Corrin fidgeting uncomfortably as Kaze led them downstairs to the banqueting hall.

“I miss pants. Are you sure I can’t wear them underneath?”

“Yes, Lord Corrin. Everyone would be able to tell.”

“I feel naked.”

“You did remember your smallclothes, right?”

“No, I left them in the room- of course I remembered them!”

Kaze held his stomach as he laughed, the two of them emerging from a staircase onto the first floor where the girls were already waiting for them with their retainers standing a small way away. Sakura, Hinoka and Azura were all wearing white kimonos with various patterns and highlights, each one of them looking far different than Corrin was used to seeing them. Hinoka fidgeted restlessly the same way he had been, clearly just as uncomfortable in the thick, heavy clothing as he was. Sakura looked slightly more nervous than she usually did; from what Corrin could tell about her the youngest Princess wasn’t fond of social events like these. Azura, however, was the picture of calm grace, every bit the proper princess and lady, her flowing blue hair cascading down her back and shoulders like a silken waterfall as she disinterestedly watched the servants scurrying about in preparation for the banquet. Corrin had to admit that he found it difficult to take his eyes off of her.

Azura glanced up, catching him staring and giving him a playful grin before Corrin’s view was full of Hinoka.

“There you are!” his older sister said exasperatedly. “What took so long? You get lost?”

“I had some trouble with the kimono,” Corrin grumbled. “I feel naked.”

“I know what you mean,” Hinoka grumbled in return. “I hate these formal things…”

Azura chuckled slightly from behind them, smiling slightly next to Sakura. She stepped forward, her delicate hands reaching up and straightening the collar of Hinoka’s kimono as the taller woman fidgeted restlessly.  

“They aren’t so bad,” she said, smoothing out the material. “You just have to remember to watch your posture, Hinoka.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hinoka sighed. “Come on, let’s get in there before Mother sends Reina to search for us again.”

“Again?” Corrin parroted as they began to walk.

“Let’s just say you can’t get out of these things,” Hinoka grumbled. “No matter how hard you try to hide.”

Sakura and Azura both laughed at Hinoka’s frowning expression, Corrin making a sound of comprehension and nodding sagely as they walked. The retainers and Kaze trailed behind them, each dressed in less ornate but still fine clothing. Azama had traded his simple priest’s raiment for a more detailed formal version; the brown-haired woman who had been with Sakura this morning was wearing a pale pink floral pattern that made her look much younger; Setsuna looked barely awake in her own blue and black robe; and a red-haired man chatted amicably with Kaze at the rear of the group.

A thought occurred to Corrin, and he turned to face Azura, almost tripping on the hem of his long kimono in the process. He stifled a curse as Sakura reached out to steady him before nodding his thanks and turning to Azura.

“Say Azura, do you not have any retainers?”

Her face darkened for a moment before her serene smile returned, and she shook her head.

“I have not been afforded such a luxury, no,” she said simply. “It is simply not necessary for me, as a hostage.”

Hinoka snorted through her nose, grinning lop-sidedly.

“C’mon, Azura, you know you’re practically family,” she said.

Azura smiled, somewhat sadly to Corrin’s mind, and nodded.

“You’re right,” she said. “Now let’s talk of happier things. This is supposed to be a celebration.”

“Is there going to be raw fish?” Corrin asked, taking the hint and changing the subject. “I heard stories that Hoshidans don’t cook their food…”

*

After a whirlwind of greetings to nobles, military officers and important merchants, most of whose difficult Hoshidan names Corrin forgot instantly, dinner was served and he found himself seated on the floor between his mother and Hinoka, looking down at a small tray of food. Arrayed in the long banqueting hall everyone was seated on the ground in rows similarly to the royal family, but where the others were seating aligned down the room Corrin and his family sat across the head of it, in a position of honor. Or so he assumed. From left to right the seating arrangements were Takumi, Ryoma, Mikoto, Corrin, Hinoka, Sakura and then Azura. Ryoma looked resplendent in a deep red kimono, cutting a regal figure seated next to their mother. Takumi looked around the room, clearly bored as he picked at his food, occasionally nodding politely to one noble or another. At his other side the three girls chatted quietly as they ate, occasionally giggling softly at something Corrin didn’t catch.

It was a world removed from the Nohrian Court, he had to admit. Where the Nohrian nobility had been a display of power and affluence, the Hoshidans didn’t seem to care for such things. Many were wearing understated clothes, simple kimonos much like what he and his siblings were wearing. And unlike in Nohr, the women were much more modestly clothed, in some cases wearing even more than the men were. Corrin wondered for a moment how they were supposed to attract attention to find a husband, but judging from the levels of attention already being lavished on those women present this clearly wasn’t an issue. Everything was so different, so alien from the cold reality of Nohrian Nobility, and Corrin was surprised to find that he was enjoying the more relaxed Hoshidan setting.

Sighing, the Prince looked back down at his plate in thinly veiled despair.

“Is everything alright, Corrin?” Mikoto asked discretely.

“Yes, mother,” Corrin sighed. “I’m just… used to my food being cooked.”

A plate of artfully arranged cuts of raw fish, sashimi, was laid out before him with a small shallow bowl of sauce for dipping. It looked safe enough, and his siblings and Azura didn’t hesitate at all when it was placed before them, but Corrin had always been taught to be leery of uncooked food.

“This is just the first course,” Mikoto laughed quietly. “You do not have to eat it if you are uncomfortable.”

Corrin resisted the urge to say ‘this whole endeavor makes me uncomfortable, from the clothes to the strange food’, but held his tongue. Instead he picked up the smallest piece of sashimi on the plate, very carefully dipped it in the sauce and brought it to his mouth. Mikoto smiled approvingly as Corrin chewed, raising his brows as he swallowed.

“It’s not that bad,” he admitted.

“I will pass along your compliments to the chef,” Mikoto beamed. “I’m sure they will make him very happy.”

Corrin nodded, trying a piece of a different fish this time and watching the room as he chewed. There were perhaps a hundred other guests, not including their various servants that flitted about with the Shirisagi staff. Most were talking and laughing loudly amongst themselves, drinking the local rice wine and other beverages that Corrin couldn’t identify. He’d opted for simple tea himself, a choice he was growing more and more satisfied with as he watched the Hoshidan nobility drink themselves stupid before him. Takumi and Ryoma were both drinking the wine as well, but pacing themselves far slower than the others. Kaze was sitting with the other retainers towards the back of the room, talking happily with a similar looking red-haired man seated across from him, but Rinkah was nowhere to be seen among the diners.

Corrin drained his tea cup and set it down for scarcely a moment before one of the servants was on him, offering a refill. He would have guessed she was similar in age to Emma, pretty enough with her long black hair carefully pinned up, although dressed in the white and gold livery of a Shirisagi maid.

“Allow me, milord,” the young girl said.

Corrin nodded, absently reaching for the cup to hold it up to her. As his fingers brushed it the girl let out a surprised little squeak, and Corrin looked down just in time to see hot tea land in his lap.

To his credit Corrin didn’t cry out; a lifetime of harsh training in extreme conditions in the icy northern reaches of Nohr had given him quite a high pain threshold. However the conversation in the hall died, replaced by amused muttering and a ripple of snickers and chuckles at his expense as all eyes turned to the commotion.

The girl dropped to the floor, prostrating herself at Corrin’s side.

“Milord I’m so sorry!” she said quickly.

Corrin waved her off, grinning good-naturedly. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash out. I’d like the tea actually in my cup this time, though.”

The girl rose slowly as another wave of laughter passed through the room at Corrin’s joke, looking up at him and nodding with tears in her eyes.

“Maybe you’d better hold the cup this time,” he suggested to more laughter.

“I-I-I will get a… a cloth, milord,” she stammered nervously.

The girl nodded, pouring another cup of tea with agonizing care before bowing again and fleeing the room. Conversation resumed as Corrin subtly tried to air some of the heat from his lap.

“That was skillfully done,” Mikoto whispered.

“It was mostly my fault,” Corrin reasoned. “Besides, I’m used to clumsy maids.”

A few of the closer nobles, sitting nearer to Takumi, hadn’t gone back to their earlier conversations, instead paying close attention to Corrin after the incident.

“I had not expected such calm forgiveness from a man raised in Nohr,” one of them, a reedy man in glasses, said. “Truly it speaks well of your character, Prince Corrin.”

Corrin frowned slightly, but inclined his head at the man. He wasn’t entirely sure if he should feel complimented or insulted, but judging from the look on Takumi’s face he was leaning to the latter.

“Nohr can be a harsh land to live in, true, but I’ve found there are no kinder people,” Corrin said in a measured tone.

“Kind enough to keep you prisoner for fifteen years,” another nobleman scoffed, obviously drunk.

“I was not mistreated,” Corrin said quickly.

“Yet your body is covered in scars, is it not?” Takumi asked evenly, a small grin on his lips.

Beside him Hinoka coughed, choking on the fish she’d been eating and chasing it down with some tea as she blushed.

“My training was thorough,” Corrin deadpanned.

He didn’t know what Takumi was playing at, but he didn’t like the look in his younger brother’s eyes.

“There’s no need to defend the bastards!” another drunken nobleman slurred. “After everything they’ve done to you and to us it’s a satisfying sight to see you sitting here!”

“I only wish I could see the look on that little bastard Xander’s face!”

“Oh come off it, last time you and he were on the field you turned and ran!”

Raucous laughter filled the room as the nobility all took up the topic, badmouthing Nohr and the Nohrian Royalty as they ate. It took all of Corrin’s willpower not to immediately jump to their defense, instead clenching his fists and glaring at his half-eaten tray of sashimi. In truth, Nohr had wronged Hoshido, but at the same time Hoshido wasn’t guiltless either. They were two countries at war, and Corrin didn’t want to admit it, but he was on the opposite side he was used to at present.

His gaze snapped back up, though, when he heard one of the nobles slur something that crossed the line.

“I’ve heard that the Nohrian Princess even ‘motivates’ her troops with her own body! Can you imagine that!?”

“Hah! Have you seen her? Just one glance at her behind me would have me fighting like a demon!”

“Are we talking about the older or the younger one?”

“The older one, you sick old dog!”

“Yes, but he always did have strange taste.”

“That’s enough! Show some decorum before your Queen!” Ryoma called, too late.

Corrin pushed his tray away with a clatter, the sound going unnoticed by all but those among the Royal Family.

“Excuse me, I need some air,” he said absently as he rose to his feet.

Scarcely had he taken two steps before his legs gave out, asleep from having sat on the ground for so long, and he ended up flat on his face behind his mother and Ryoma. Corrin simply grit his teeth and rose again, ignoring the mocking laughter as he strode from the room with his head high. He didn’t need to look to know that Takumi was one of the ones laughing at him the loudest.

As he entered the hallway outside of the banquet hall he completely missed the maid that had spilled the tea in his lap, hesitantly waiting by the door with a cloth in her hands. He brushed by her, doing nothing to hide the scowl on his face now as he questioned whether it was even worth trying to bring peace to the two nations. 


	11. Chapter 11

It was said that the slums of Windmire never slept. The people of the slums were famed throughout Nohr for being slightly erratic, in this way. But that’s what never seeing the sun, even what little sunlight Nohr got during the day, could do to a person.

Windmire’s slums, the Undercity, never slept, and Laslow knew that from first-hand experience.

And not just because he’d been getting so little sleep lately, either.

The sprawling, labyrinthine city beneath the crown jewel of the Nohrian Empire; Windmire’s Undercity, built in the sewers, old mining passages and catacombs that ran for miles beneath the city and were the haven of choice for those Nohrians that eschewed King Garon’s iron-fisted rule. Of course, usually this meant that they were outside of his forces’ protection, too, but sometimes it was necessary to brave the Undercity for the sake of peace on the surface.

Laslow walked with the hood of his cloak pulled low over his face, blending in with the rest of the foot traffic in the busy colonnade. Clearly the street, full now with vendors and shops, taverns and revelers, had once been an old stormwater drain. No doubt it had been sealed further up the line, weather intentionally or not he couldn’t say.

He’d let a little stubble grow out on his chin over the last few days, too, just to make him look a little scruffier. He was ever wearing his beaten-up old clothes, the ones he’d worn as a mercenary before he’d entered Prince Xander’s service, to complete the image. He knew from experience how it looked to be destitute and desperate, and it was knowledge he found somewhat amusing to be using in his work as a retainer now. 

Despite the fact that it was the middle of the day above the low light of the lamps and lanterns cast the street, if it could be called that, in a sort of eternal twilight. The drunken patrons of the taverns and brothels lining the street acting as if the working day was done, drinking themselves into a stupor and wasting what little coin they had on a single night of companionship made the atmosphere confusing to Prince Xander’s retainer.

Laslow couldn’t resist a grin as he walked past one of the brothels, some of the girls waiting out front for someone to glance their way giving him curious glances. Of course, he would never pay for such companionship. It completely took the thrill of the chase out, and the chase itself was more fun than the sex afterwards.

“Flowers! Anyone want to buy a flower? Two coppers, or three for five!”

Laslow glanced up, his grin momentarily dropping before he smirked again. A young woman wearing dark clothes and a pink shawl over her long blonde hair was wandering through the crowd, selling a basket full of white lilies. Their eyes met for a moment, and Laslow gave her a wink as he passed. Behind him he heard her huff before she continued on her way, her muttering making him chuckle a little to himself.

“He could have at least bought one… cheapskate…”

Grinning a little to himself, Laslow continued on through the slums. In some parts of the tunnels it looked like someone had transplanted an entire town, free-standing buildings and all. Some places were little more than tarps hung up in the tunnels for privacy, or to mark territory; no doubt the crude daubing and patterns on some of them could be gang markings. He passed through a great circular market in what was once a junction for an ancient sewer network, the high ceiling crisscrossed with rope bridges and shanty dwellings above the market floor. The noise, echoed back upon itself in the enclosed space, was almost deafening. Through the junction-market he passed through another hole in a stone pipe, climbing uphill a little, before coming into a silent mausoleum. Time and grave robbers had stripped the ancient space bare, but a few priests still stood in silent prayer to the symbol of the Dusk Dragon carved into the far wall. Laslow passed them silently, nodding in respect to the deity.

At last he came to his goal, though, another row of shanties, the lamplight much weaker here. The few people present flinched away from Laslow as he approached, disappearing back into their own huts as he passed. The retainer had to hold a handkerchief to his nose as he neared his goal, the stink of decay becoming almost overpowering.

“Pretty nasty, isn’t it? And not the good kind, either.”

He glanced up as two more men appeared from within one of the shanties. One, wearing a hood, grinned at him and winked. Or blinked. It was hard to tell with Niles and the man’s eye-patch. Usually, though, it looked like he was just winking at everyone given his personality.

The other man nodded agreement, making to salute Laslow but thinking better at the last second and running a hand through his trim grey hair. Magistrate Reder was one of Xander’s best, a former Nohrian Knight who had retired from the military yet continued to serve his liege as a Magistrate in the capital. Reder was a slight, whipcord thin man, clean shaven and noble in bearing. Even after retiring he still maintained the dignity and physique of a knight.

He stuck out far more in the slums than either Laslow or Niles, but this wasn’t his usual territory, anyway. The three of them were only there on a tip Niles had gotten about a string of grisly murders. Murders eerily similar in detail to a series of similar incidents that had happened five years ago.

“What do you think?” he asked though his handkerchief.

Niles shrugged, but Reder sighed through his nose before indicating to one of the nearby shanties.

“See for yourself, sir” the Magistrate offered.

Laslow nodded woodenly, forcing his reluctant legs to carry him over. He hadn’t come all this way to balk at the scene now. Taking one last breath of the slightly cleaner air Laslow ducked his head and stepped into a nightmare scene of wanton carnage. Dried blood coated the walls and floor, large splatters also covering the ceiling. Body parts were strewn everywhere, some gnawed by scavengers and yet a few with larger, more chilling bite-marks in them. The torsos of the victims had been neatly lined up before being eviscerated, their ribs bent and broken, pointing skyward above their hollowed out chests, intact faces and heads carefully cleaned and displayed to showcase the full horror that the victims had endured in their final moments. An entire family. A man and woman, both in their early middle ages, a teenaged boy, and a child. Laslow couldn’t even identify the child’s gender. All four were so decomposed that it took a moment for him to identify them, their skin waxy and grey and…

The retainer turned and rushed from the shanty house, leaning himself heavily against a nearby wall as he emptied the contents of his stomach.

“That bad, huh?” Niles asked, serious for once.

Laslow retched again, nodding and grunting an affirmative. He was no stranger to death; he’d grown up on a battlefield, lived his entire adult life simply waiting for another war, but this was brutality and savagery beyond even his worst nightmares.

With a few deep, shuddering breaths Laslow straightened, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and turning back to the other two.

“You haven’t seen it yet?” he asked Niles.

“I only came as the guide,” the one eyed gangster shrugged. “Reder’s description was bad enough. I already have plenty of nightmares without adding another.”

“What do you think?” Laslow asked the former knight again.

Reder let out a deep sigh, shaking his head.

“I’m honestly trying not to, sir,” he grunted. “The timing, the way the bodies were mutilated, it’s all just too coincidental.”

Laslow nodded as the older man echoed his own thoughts.

“Out of the three of us, you were the only one that helped take him down last time,” he said slowly. “Do you think it’s him?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Reder said before sighing. “Or at least there wouldn’t be, if he didn’t have a rock solid alibi. Says he was in the palace since he was released. First thing I checked, too. No one’s seen him leave, but he’s hardly been subtle about flaunting the fancy ring the King gave him.”

Laslow nodded. “A copy-cat, maybe?”

“Doubt it,” Niles spoke up.

“Reder, keep investigating this. Quietly,” Laslow said. “I don’t want to tip off that we’re onto him. Niles, keep your head down, too, but if anyone so much as thinks they saw his shadow, you tell me.”

“Like I wasn’t already busy enough,” Niles groaned.

Laslow ignored him, turning back to Reder.

“Are there any others we could talk to about this? Any more of the Knights that helped take him down five years ago?”

Reder shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin frown.

“Didn’t you read the reports, sir?” Reder asked quietly. “Aside from me and the Prince, everyone else that we took to bring that psycho in died during the confrontation. Nine other Knights. Hans butchered them all before the Prince took him down.”

*

Corrin padded soundlessly through the halls of Shirisagi late at night, not a sound echoing from the polished wooden floor. He did it unconsciously after spending his entire childhood trying to hide from the matron at the Northern Fortress, another habit he finally remembered the origin of now.

Thanks to his little show of storming out of the banquet he’d skipped the main course of dinner, and he was hungry. Gunter had always said that no man could fight on an empty stomach, and if a soldier had the chance he needed to eat. With his old mentor’s voice floating through his head, Corrin had slipped into his more simple black gi and pants, pulled on his boots and was now moving towards the kitchen.

He was sure that somewhere, Kaze or one of the other ninja were watching him, far more stealthily than he was being, if the hairs standing up on the back of his neck were any indication. But he left them be. He was royalty, after all. He was used to being watched. Openly mocked and insulted, however…

As he walked Corrin sighed, shaking his head a little. He regretted his rash behavior at the banquet. Of course the people of Hoshido would think badly of the Nohrians. The people of Nohr thought no better of them, after all. It was his task to right their misconceptions, though, and he’d missed the perfect opportunity to begin doing so.

“What’s wrong with me lately?” he wondered aloud.

Ever since he’d left the Northern Fortress his emotions had been all over the place and his personality was fluctuating wildly. At first he’d just assumed it was because he was happy to be free. Then, he’d thought it was grief from losing Gunter. But even now he couldn’t calm down. He couldn’t relax.

Corrin gave another long sigh as he approached the kitchens, simply putting his anxiety up to everything that had happened lately. He’d gone through a lot in the last month and it wouldn’t be surprising that he be a little off his game, especially given the fifteen or so years of inactivity beforehand.

The kitchen was dark as he entered, dashing any of the Prince’s hopes for a quick and easy meal. Perhaps, he thought idly, they had left some of those strange little rice-cracker thingies sitting in a jar somewhere, the way that Nohrians did with cookies…

A sudden burst of light illuminated the long room as the moon came out from behind a cloud, casting the kitchens in a silvery ethereal glow. The moon itself was close to full, meaning he could see quite well as he began his search for-

Corrin froze, coming to a halt face-to-face with a scowling, pale countenance. For a moment he worried he’d run afoul one of the kitchen staff, being in there so late at night. For an even briefer second, a single heartbeat, he honestly thought he’d stumbled upon some sort of Hoshidan demon similar to the Faceless. However, as the face softened and Corrin’s own heartbeat steadied, he realized that he was facing Takumi’s retainer, Oboro.

“Lord Corrin. What are you doing in here?” she asked levelly.

Corrin shrugged, doing his best to play off the tension in his stance.

“I got hungry,” he admitted. “What about you? You’re up late.”

“I am cleaning,” she said. “Couldn’t you tell by my mop and broom?”

“In the middle of the night?” he persisted.

“Afraid so,” she sighed. “I have my duties and training to attend to during the day, so this is the only chance I get. Now stop loafing around, Lord Corrin. You’re in the way.”

“Of course, please excuse me,” Corrin said quickly, moving to one side. “I suppose chores must be done, even if it is late. But I’m curious. Doesn’t Shirisagi have servants to do this?”

Oboro hesitated for a moment, glaring at Corrin for a few beats before sighing again.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, somewhat guiltily.

“Ah,” Corrin nodded, his quest for food momentarily forgotten. “That makes much more sense. Then perhaps I could help?”

Takumi’s retainer flinched, her eyes widening at his suggestion.

“L-Lord Corrin, why would you even suggest such a thing!?” she half-shouted in her shock.

“I can’t sleep either,” Corrin shrugged.

He stepped forward, taking the broom from Oboro’s hand and smiling at her.

“Besides, I was trained as a Knight. And this kitchen seems like it’ll be a lot easier to sweep than the stables back at the Northern Fortress.”

With that he turned, beginning to sweep totally heedless of the shocked expression on Oboro’s face. After a few moments she huffed out another sigh and began to follow him with the mop, and the two fell into a rhythm as they worked. It was a nice change for Corrin, doing simple labor like this again. It had been a long time since he’d done anything even resembling his old routine back home, so this was calming for him. In a way it was almost cathartic. The simple back and forth movements, the sweat beginning to bead on his brow from effort, the cadenced breathing of himself and Oboro almost lulled him into a trance-like state as he finally felt himself relax. They had cleaned half of the large kitchen floor before Oboro broke the silence, looking up at Corrin as they continued to scrub the floors.

“You know, you’re not what I expected,” she admitted softly.

“I’ve been getting a lot of that lately,” he shrugged, continuing to sweep. “What were you expecting?”

Oboro hesitated, clearly thinking carefully about her next words. Corrin laughed, stopping as well and leaning on his broom as he caught his breath.

“Speak plainly, Oboro,” he said kindly. “I prefer you do that rather than dance around my status as Prince.”

She nodded, her long ponytail swishing with the motion.

“Nohrians are cruel,” she began, looking away from him. “They’re cowardly. Cold. Calculating. They hate Hoshido and all of its inhabitants, and wish nothing but destruction upon them. But you… are none of these things.”

“Sounds like you’ve found a bad stereotype,” Corrin chuckled sadly. “You know, they say the exact same things about Hoshidans back home.”

“What!?” Oboro snapped, turning her glare back on Corrin. “We fight Nohr, we hate Nohr, because they do the same to us!”

“Exactly,” he sighed. “And the reverse is also true. At some point, someone’s going to have enough faith to put down their weapons and say ‘enough’.”

“And you think Hoshido would do that?” Oboro almost sneered.

“No,” Corrin admitted. “Nor do I think that Nohr would, and that is the problem I’m faced with.”

Oboro was silent for a moment, studying Corrin intently before speaking.

“What do you mean ‘the problem you are faced with’?”

Corrin chuckled self-depreciatingly, rubbing the back of his head as he looked back up.

“I want peace, Oboro,” he said clearly. “I want the fighting between our two nations to stop. And I’m the one best situated to start the peace process. I have ties to both the Nohrian and Hoshidan royal families. If I try hard enough I know I’ll be able to make them see reason.”

“You honestly think that you alone can undo centuries of hate?” Oboro laughed. “I’m sorry, Lord Corrin, but that goes beyond optimism and simply becomes foolishness.”

“Foolish though it may be, that’s my dream,” he shrugged. “Now. Why don’t we finish this and get to bed? We’re almost done.”

He went back to sweeping, Oboro silently following after him again. It didn’t take long before they were done, Corrin wiping the sweat from his brow and smiling a little at the satisfaction of a job well done. At his side Oboro looked out at the clean kitchen, her eyes unfocused as she became lost in thought.

“Do you really believe you can bring peace?” she asked in a small voice.

“All I can do is try,” Corrin said, equally as softly.

Oboro nodded again, taking the broom back from Corrin and stepping away.

“You are going to the festival tomorrow, right?” she asked, grinning a little.

“Er… yes?” Corrin said hesitantly.

“I’ll help you dress for it,” she said with a nod.

*

It was early morning when Xander received the summons from his father.

He had been training, honing his skills for when they finally figured out where Corrin had been taken, when Iago had teleported in. Xander had left immediately, wiping his face with a towel and tossing it aside as he walked, still dressed in his training clothes but carrying his sacred sword, Siegfried, as was proper for the Crown Prince.

Laslow and Peri hurried along behind him, both looking rumpled and stressed. Peri was wearing far less makeup than she usually did, the intricate patterns and colors around her eyes gone in favor of some simple shadow. Laslow simply looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days; Xander knew that his retainer was taking on much of the Prince’s own work while he was training, and he was eternally grateful for that. He would see to it that the steel-haired man got some well-deserved time off after they recued Corrin.

Servants leapt from their path as the trio practically charged through Krakenburg’s halls, darting aside and scraping and bowing in deference to the glare on the Prince’s face.

It felt like a lifetime since Xander had smiled last.

“Do you think they found him?” Peri ventured at last, her usual irreverent confidence gone.

“I don’t know,” Xander responded flatly.

“I will admit, after all the work we’ve been putting in if Iago found him first I’ll be somewhat upset,” Laslow sighed.

A vein in Xander’s forehead twitched, but he took a deep breath and reined in his anger. He was frustrated, and he knew that Laslow didn’t mean what he had said. The Retainer certainly didn’t deserve the words that were on the tip of Xander’s tongue.

Laslow had noticed the change in his liege’s posture, though, the stiffening of his shoulders and face.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Lord Xander,” he said placatingly. “Any news of Prince Corrin’s whereabouts can only be a good thing, no matter where they come from. I’m sorry for my tone. I’m afraid the fatigue must be catching up with me.”

“I know, Laslow,” Xander sighed. “Things are rough right now, but they’ll get better.”

“That’s why you keep us around, right?” Peri chuckled.

“Indeed,” Xander agreed with a small smirk.

“With this serial killer on the loose, and now reports of the Ice Tribe in revolt I think things may take a little longer to get better,” Laslow muttered.

Xander came to a dead stop, turning on Laslow.

“What did you say about the Ice Tribe?” he asked suddenly.

The Retainer blinked a few times, nodding nervously and leafing through the sheaf of papers and notes he constantly carried around with him these days before finding and holding out a report.

“Scouts came in last night, milord,” Laslow said. “The Ice Tribe has declared their independence from Nohr and are driving the occupation forces out. I’m sorry, I meant to tell you, but-”

“Dammit, Kilma, what are you thinking!?” Xander growled, snatching the report from Laslow.

He started walking again, speed-reading the preliminary report as his two retainers silently hurried to catch up. It was as Laslow had said; the Ice Tribe were claiming their independence and attacking anything that came west of the Woods of the Forlorn. Fortunately, nothing had been set up to counter this insurgency, so hopefully Xander could take control of the situation before it spiraled into open war, the way things had gone with the Earth Tribe. He knew the Ice Tribe’s chieftain, Kilma, personally. They weren’t friends, but there was a mutual understanding between the two of them, and Xander knew that the level-headed Chieftain wouldn’t be creating such a risk to his people like this unless he had a very good reason to do so.

“Dammit we don’t have time for this right now,” Xander huffed, handing the report back to Laslow. “We’ll think of something after the meeting with my Father. Once we hear what news he has…”

Xander’s speech slowed to a halt as they rounded the corner, coming into view of the doors to King Garon’s Throne Room. His three other siblings and their retainers were waiting; that was nothing surprising. What was surprising were the other nine Generals of Nohr’s Legions were all present, too, wearing their full ceremonial garb.

Before Xander could ask what, exactly, was going on the two large doors to the Throne Room opened, and a man that he had hoped to never see again strode out with a sickening grin on his face.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Hans declared loudly, his tone smug. “Welcome to the beginning of the glorious Nohrian conquest of Hoshido.”

*

The next morning Corrin woke to a knocking on his door, Emma appearing at the appointed time to wake him as he requested. Corrin blinked, letting out a low groan as he rolled over onto his stomach and contemplated simply ignoring her and going back to sleep. Before he could enact this plan, though, a second knock sounded, accompanied by a voice this time.

“Lord Corrin!” Emma called. “It’s time! Please wake up!”

With a louder groan Corrin rolled again, rising to a sitting position and yawning. He and Oboro had been up late, even later than when they had cleaned the kitchens, while she had picked out ‘the perfect clothes for him’. They were resting in a neatly folded pile against one wall, Corrin’s bleary gaze coming to a stop on them as he recalled the previous evening with a slight smile. Oboro was a lot nicer than she let on, and was genuinely fun to be around. Even if she did get a little excited about dressing people up like dolls. In the end they had both compromised, and Corrin had been surprised to find that she actually had a rather large stash of Nohrian clothes. The results were a dark brocade suit that was a little flashier than Corrin’s austere taste, but it wasn’t a kimono, so he wasn’t about to complain too much.

“Lord Corrin?” Emma called again, interrupting his tired thoughts.

“I’m up!” he called back. “Just… give me a moment.”

He rose, stretching his back and letting out another great yawn before he went about dressing in the immaculate suit that Oboro had prepared for him. With another yawn Corrin stepped down into his boots and slid the door of his room open, taken aback when he almost walked into Rinkah.

“Rinkah!” Corrin shouted as he leapt back. “What are you… I mean good morning. I didn’t see you at the banquet last night.”

“Apparently you didn’t stay long, either,” the warrior woman said.

Behind her Emma fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable not being the one that greeted Corrin first. Behind both of the women Kaze chuckled, dressed in his usual clothing rather than the fine kimono he’d been in the previous evening.

Corrin raised an eyebrow when he saw how the others were dressed in their usual clothes, glancing down at his own suit.

“Do I seem over-dressed?” he asked.

“Not at all, Prince Corrin,” Kaze laughed. “Rinkah and I are guarding you today, so we cannot be stifled by fine clothes.”

“A-and… I have training to attend to today, Lord Corrin,” Emma said, looking down.

“I simply did not wish to dress like a fool,” Rinkah snorted.

Corrin barked out a laugh, looking down at himself.

“I think I look very regal like this,” he said, grinning.

“If you like looking like a Nohrian fop,” Rinkah shot back.

“If the boot fits,” Corrin shrugged, shooting Emma a wink for good measure.

The Hoshidan squire and Kaze both chuckled while Rinkah snorted and rolled her eyes again.

“Come, then! Let’s not keep my brothers and sisters waiting!” Corrin declared as ostentatiously as he could, much to Rinkah’s continued chagrin.

*

The festival was in full swing by the time Corrin and the others arrived, the noise from the town easily discernable from even half-way down the Shirisagi Mountain. Up close the happy laughter and shouting of the crowd was almost a physical thing, vibrating through Corrin and his little party, and even the ground and buildings themselves.

Simple wooden stalls had been set up along the wide main streets and colorfully decorated with eye-catching patterns and bright hues, the streets closed to all but foot traffic for the festival. Men shouted encouragement as people meandered around the street, enticing customers for the games and snack foods they were selling. Corrin grinned a little, wincing as he was bombarded by new memories every time his eyes rested on something for more than a few seconds.

_… Hinoka sniffled, holding out her hand for another of the small paper paddles to try and catch one of the goldfish in the pond beneath her, practically slamming the coins on the stall owner’s counter and…_

“So what do you think?” Hinoka asked as they walked.

Corrin shook his head a little, grinning again.

“It’s nostalgic,” he admitted. “But a little loud.”

“They haven’t even started drinking yet,” Hinoka laughed. “Wait until the sun goes down! Then it’ll get fun!”

“Please remember that you are representing the Hoshidan Royal Family and carry yourself respectfully, Lady Hinoka,” Azama piped up with his trademark smirk.

Hinoka huffed in response, pouting and resting her hands behind her head as they walked.

Aside from Corrin, Hinoka and Azama they were joined by Kaze and Rinkah, as well as Sakura and one of her retainers, the brown haired girl that kept glaring daggers at Corrin every time their eyes met. Azura had also joined them at the gates, as mysterious and ethereal as ever. Everyone was dressed in light, casual clothes except for Hinoka, wearing her usual riding gear. Apparently Takumi and his retainers had left earlier and were already at the festival somewhere, and Ryoma and their mother would be attending later. Mikoto had promised them that she would be there in time to watch the fireworks show as a family again for the first time in more than a decade.

_… Corrin winces, hiding behind Mikoto’s leg and burying his face in the soft fabric of her kimono at the loud sounds of the fireworks. Mikoto laughs, kneeling down and lifting Corrin up to her chest, proceeding to hold him as they watch the fireworks…_

“Are you alright, Corrin?” Azura asked quietly.

He glanced up at her soft voice, realizing that the rest of the group had moved past them. They started to walk again, moving to rejoin the others. Kaze glanced over his shoulder, his eyes meeting Corrin’s. Seeing that they hadn’t quite become separated yet he went back to trying to convince Rinkah not to buy all of the meat skewers at one particular stall at once.

“Yeah, just… remembering,” he said, struggling for the right word.

“Is it still painful?” Azura asked as they walked.

Corrin snorted. “It’s distracting. I can’t quite figure out how to remember and keep doing anything else at the same time. I’m hoping it doesn’t happen while I’m in battle.”

“I thought it was just a stereotype that men couldn’t multitask,” Azura said jokingly.

Corrin shrugged in response. “I can multitask fine, thank you very much. But this is different. It’s like my brain is overloaded with the information and I have no idea what’s going to spark it next-”

_… Ryoma displays the spoils of his mission proudly, holding out the sweet caramel coated apples to his siblings. “I’m sorry, honey, but I think Sakura and Takumi may be a little too young yet,” Mikoto said, much to a young Takumi’s distress…_

“Like that,” Corrin groaned, shaking his head clear again. “That stall, selling the candy apples? The scent of the caramel set me off again.”

Azura nodded sagely. “That must be getting annoying.”

“I think it’s worse for the people waiting for us,” Corrin chuckled.

Ahead of them Kaze had called the group to a halt before they got too far ahead of Corrin and Azura. A few concerned looks from the others drifted their way, as well as the brown haired girl’s glare and Rinkah’s bored expression. Apparently Kaze had talked her out of buying all the meat skewers, but she still had quite a few sticking up from her fist…

Corrin snorted with laughter at the sight as he and Azura hurried to catch up, finally letting himself be carried away by the festive atmosphere. The memories wouldn’t stop, no doubt, but he could still try to make new ones at the same time.

*

A while later Corrin stood in the shade of one of the tents that had been set up as rest-stops, watching as Hinoka wasted a considerable amount of her money on a familiar-looking goldfish scooping pond while her retainers stood nearby looking embarrassed. He stood with Azura and Kaze in amicable silence, Rinkah nearby pestering more of the food stalls. Kaze had apparently been very accommodating for the Flame Tribe warrior, providing her with money for the festival and even constantly explaining how certain foods were made or seasoned. She didn’t seem very interested in the multitude of sweets like the other girls, but rather the savory treats like the okonomiyaki she was watching being made with unabashed longing in her eyes.

“How are the memory flashes, Lord Corrin?” Kaze asked suddenly. “Are they subsiding now?”

“A little,” he admitted, grinning to himself as Hinoka broke another paddle and screamed in frustration.

“She does this every year,” Azura sighed, following Corrin’s line of sight. “One would think she would be better at it by now.”

“It takes a gentle touch, something I’m afraid to say Lady Hinoka doesn’t have,” Kaze said with a chuckle. “Believe me. I’ve had to spar with her.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Corrin groaned, rubbing at his chest where he’d been hit the previous day.

Azura laughed, the sound like the chiming of bells compared to the constant noise and press of the crowds around them, and soon Kaze and Corrin found themselves joining in.

“You know, she actually taught me how to use the naginata, too,” Azura said eventually.

“Now that is a terrifying thought,” Corrin deadpanned.

“It’s actually a sight to behold,” Kaze said. “Lady Azura isn’t quite the warrior that Lady Hinoka is, but she has mixed traditional naginata arts with her own dance routines. Combined with her natural grace, watching Lady Azura fight is like watching a dance.”

“You dance, too?” Corrin asked in surprise.

“Er… a little…” Azura mumbled.

“Lady Azura is quite the accomplished dancer, actually,” Kaze said, his tone nothing but helpful. “She trained for many years with private tutors. Her singing and dancing are both amazing; many nobles stay at Shirisagi simply in the hopes that they will get to see her perform!”

“Please Kaze, you’ll make me blush,” Azura mumbled, looking away.

Corrin chuckled a little, choosing not to point out that her cheeks were already aflame as Kaze blinked in confusion at her reaction, utterly oblivious to his own sweet-talking. Before they could tease her any more Sakura and her retainer rejoined them in the shade, each holding a strange sort of wrapped pastry.

“What’s wrong with Azura?” Sakura asked brightly.

“Oh, nothing,” Corrin said with a roguish grin. “She just can’t take a compliment. What’ve you got there?”

“It’s a crepe!” Sakura declared with a big smile. “W-would you like to… try some?”

She timidly held up the pastry as she spoke, and without a moment’s hesitation Corrin leaned forward and took a small bite. The soft pastry was similar to a Nohrian pancake, but filled with fresh cream and chocolate. It was sweet and rich, but a little too much for Corrin’s more austere taste. Still, though, Sakura had an expectant and hopeful look on her face as she gazed up at him…

“It’s delicious,” Corrin said with another grin.

Sakura’s smile returned, the younger Princess blushing a little as she proceeded to take small bites of her own from the crepe. Ever since they had met that morning the usually reserved Sakura had been excited and bubbly, her good cheer a welcome change from the timid girl that Corrin had come to know. She was also the only other one dressed for the occasion like Corrin was, wearing a flowing pink kimono of a simpler design than the ones that they had worn to the dinner. Unlike Corrin’s black suit, though, Sakura’s clothes actually blended into the crowd of festival goers.

He was still getting more than a few funny looks, even after hours of wandering around…

Corrin glanced over to Sakura’s retainer, who was eying him suspiciously while nibbling on her own crepe.

“What flavor did you end up getting… uh…”

The girl frowned at his lack of knowledge, turning to face him properly.

“Kazehana,” she supplied. “Pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

“Right,” Corrin nodded. “Kaz… uh… Kaze… er…”

“Just call me Hana,” she sighed.

“Sorry,” Corrin chuckled. “I’m still struggling with some Hoshidan names. So. What flavor did you get?”

“The same as Lady Sakura’s,” Hana said bluntly. “And no, you can’t have a bite.”

“Noted,” the Prince laughed. “So then, Hana. How long have you been my sister’s retainer for?”

“I’m not just her retainer,” the girl responded proudly, puffing up her armored chest. “I’m her number one retainer! I’m also Lady Sakura’s best friend!”

“That’s very impressive,” Corrin said neutrally. “But it doesn’t answer my question.”

Hana opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again and closed it again, starting to blush.

“Since we were young,” she mumbled, moving away to Sakura’s side.

Corrin chuckled, letting the grin he was suppressing rise to his face. Azura shook her head, grinning along with him; at some point Kaze had gone to rescue the okonomiyaki vendors from Rinkah’s hunger, leaving Corrin standing alone with the blue-haired woman at present. Corrin’s smile faltered, though, when he caught sight of a strange robed and cowled man in the crowd. Before he could get a better look the man was gone, but Corrin could have sworn that the man was smiling at him.

“You are a dangerous man,” Azura said lightly, returning his attention to the festival.

Corrin shrugged staring into the passing crowd as his thoughts returned to Nohr. “I just like to tease. It’s fun being on the opposite side of it for a change. My sisters back home, while I love them with all my heart, were ruthless sometimes. My brother, too, come to think of it…”

_… Camilla chuckles as Elise pulls at Corrin’s clothes, his own face bright red at his little sister’s onslaught. “Oh come now, Corrin, there’s nothing wrong with a little affection between siblings,” Camilla laughs as Elise wraps her arms around his waist…_

Corrin blinked a few times, a flash of darker blue hair in the crowd drawing his attention back to the present.

“Oboro!” he called out.

Takumi’s retainer spun at her name, her perpetual frown softening as she spotted Corrin. After a moment of indecision she began to push through the crowd to where he and the others were resting in the shade. Before long she stood before the group and gave Corrin an appraising look.

“Looks good on you,” she said after a moment with a lopsided grin. “I still think the shoulders are a little tight, though. Hello, Lady Azura.”

“Hello, Oboro,” Azura said with a gracious nod before turning to Corrin. “Judging from the shouting I think Kaze could use some help. I’ll take my leave.”

“Good luck. And its fine, Oboro,” Corrin laughed. “Are you here to enjoy the festival, too?”

Oboro shook her head, her long hair swinging back and forth, before holding up her naginata a little.

“Unfortunately, no. I’m here guarding Lord Takumi. He’s in that building there, drinking with some other visiting nobility. You… er… met them at the banquet last night, I’m told.”

“Ah. Right.”

Corrin’s face fell for a moment as Oboro’s meaning clicked, but he recovered quickly and smiled again.

“For future reference, I’m still planning to bring peace to both countries,” he added playfully.

Oboro smirked. “I should hope so. I’d be a little disappointed if you were dispirited after one little encounter.”

“Nobles are no different on either side of the canyon, trust me,” Corrin said flatly before smiling again. “You should have seen the looks on the Nohrian Court’s faces when I refused to execute Kaze and Rinkah. It was priceless!”

“Yes, I read Kaze’s report. I can only imagine that you received some form of censure from that act.”

Corrin blinked a few times, a dull ache blossoming in his ribs at the memory of the beating his father had given him. He started, realizing that his hand was gripping Ganglari’s hilt, and forced himself to relax. None of this went unnoticed by Oboro, whose face fell as she bowed her head.

“I’m sorry, Lord Corrin, I meant… I didn’t mean to bring up any painful memories.”

Corrin chuckled tiredly, grinning slightly. “I’m still too excited by the fact I have memories to care, really. Don’t worry about it. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And yes, my father was… less than impressed. Broke three of my ribs.”

Oboro gave a strangled gasp, her eyes going wide.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Corrin laughed. “Nohr is a militaristic nation. You should see the scars I got just from training. If my brother Xander hadn’t been there he would have killed me outright.”

Oboro was silent for a moment, looking away at the passing crowd.

“I have actually taken the field against Crown Prince Xander before, under Lord Takumi’s orders,” she said softly. “He was… terrifying. I cannot see him defending you.”

“Yet he would agree to my peace proposal.”

“You believe this?”

“I do,” Corrin nodded. “I just have to get everyone else to agree, too. It’s the nobility in both nations I’m worried about, not the royal families.”

He said the last part with a rueful laugh, and they fell into silence. In the distance Azura was bowing her head with Kaze and Rinkah, apologizing to the stall owners who the Flame Tribe warrior had been harassing. Sakura and Hana were eating and chatting happily nearby, too. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people were enjoying themselves, having a grand time at the festival, and Corrin felt that he was indeed blessed to be witnessing such frivolities.

“I must return to Lord Takumi,” Oboro said, straightening. “I hope you enjoy the festival, Lord Corrin.”

“Yeah, I’d probably better see if Azura and Kaze need help corralling Rinkah,” Corrin sighed half-heartedly. “Don’t work too hard, Oboro.”

“I will see you at the ceremony later,” she said, bowing before turning and disappearing back into the crowd.

Corrin rolled his eyes as Rinkah started to shout something about the hot-plates that the stall cooks were using, beginning to make his way over to the confrontation to help Kaze bodily drag her away from the food if he had to.

*

The sun was beginning to lower, painting Shirasagi’s Castle Town in brilliant hues of orange and gold, before Mikoto and Ryoma arrived at the festival at the head of a procession that Corrin could only begin to guess the importance of. People that looked like shrine maidens and priests followed the Queen and Prince solemnly, many holding up small portable shrines and other votive offerings. Both were wearing formal clothes, Mikoto a stunning white kimono and Ryoma his delicate-looking red plate armor, making Corrin grateful for the first time that day he had opted to wear a proper suit at the very least.

Corrin and the others had decided to wait at the foot of the statue to the Dawn Dragon, Hoshido’s deity and the counterpoint to Nohr’s own Dusk Dragon. They had been lounging around, quite literally in Rinkah’s case as she napped on the small patch of grass at the foot of the statue, waiting for the final two members of the family to arrive. Takumi and Oboro, as well as the younger Prince’s little band of sycophants that seemed to follow him around everywhere, had arrived earlier as well, some of the other Hoshidan nobles clearly already falling-down-drunk. If the Prince himself was intoxicated he carried it well, though, as he stood impassively watching the gathering crowds.

Apparently Mikoto was going to perform some sort of ceremony blessing Corrin at the foot of the statue, and thanking the Dawn Dragon for returning him to them after all this time. It was all very nice and flattering, but Corrin was beginning to grow slightly weary of the crowds and the stares.

“I should have just worn the damn kimono,” he muttered under his breath.

There, in the procession behind Mikoto and Ryoma, Corrin caught sight of Yuzu, the warrior meeting his gaze and giving him a small smile and a nod, both of which he returned. He was glad to see her again, and was looking forward to speaking with her after the ceremony about the wellbeing of the villagers they had saved. He had also seen Emma in the crowds earlier that afternoon, although the young squire had been out and about with her friends and he hadn’t wanted to bother them, so he hadn’t called out to her. No doubt she was somewhere in the crowd, preparing now to watch the ceremony.

Corrin was surprised when he realized that Mikoto was carrying a sheathed sword in her hands. A long, thin blade, perhaps the length of Ganglari but straight where the Nohrian blade was a curved scimitar-shape. Its pommel was a dull golden color, as if age had leeched the pigments from the metal.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the royals and the ceremony procession approached, the sound almost deafening to Corrin. Ryoma waved back to the crowd, but Mikoto’s gaze never faltered from the altar at the base of the Dawn Dragon statue, as if she were in a trance gripping the sword.

“The Yato,” Azura explained in a hushed whisper. “It is Hoshido’s sacred treasure, a gift left to them by the Dawn Dragon. Blessing you with the blade is a big deal.”

Corrin nodded, glancing down to his hip before shaking his head. For a moment it felt as if Ganglari had twitched, but someone passing behind them must have bumped him. Mikoto slowly approached the altar, the rest of the procession spreading out and forming a circle around the statue as Ryoma came over to join Corrin and the others.

“Hello, little brother, Azura,” he said with a nod. “Did you enjoy the festival?”

“It was… an experience,” Corrin said, doing his best not to cast a glance at Rinkah.

The Flame Tribe warrior had been a handful all day, and was only now beginning to rejoin them, blearily rubbing at her eyes and grumbling about being woken up. Ryoma chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder and taking up position at his side opposite Azura. At the altar Mikoto gently lay the sword down before turning to address the crowd. She reached out a hand towards Corrin, beckoning him forward, and Ryoma gave him a gentle nudge in the back for encouragement. With a grin Corrin strode towards his mother, her own face wearing a bright smile as he approached.

“Stand next to me,” she whispered. “Bow when I bow, turn when I turn.”

He nodded, turning to face the crowd with her. However, something felt… off. He scanned the crowd, his smile faltering when he caught sight of a man wearing dark robes and a cowl pulled low over his face. Ganglari have another twitch, and before either Corrin or Mikoto could speak, the sword leapt from the sheathe on Corrin’s hip and spun through the air. The robed man caught the blade, the crowd murmuring in confusion as the ceremony was interrupted, but before anyone could move to stop him the man had run a hand over Ganglari’s surface and thrown it back towards Corrin and Mikoto. The sword landed in the dirt before them, sticking upright in the grass.

Then, the eye in the hilt opened again, and Corrin’s world was enveloped in white as Mikoto threw herself atop him. The Prince blinked in surprise as something flew by them, his nascent magical senses telling him that they were propelled by some form of dark magic, but Mikoto jerking against him and crying out in pain proved a more pressing concern.

Around them it was as if someone had thrown a stone into a calm pond. Those closest to the blade were thrown flat by a wave of magic and the destructive shards of the sword.

Hana cried out, shielding Sakura and suffering as several shards pierced her side. Oboro did the same for Takumi, letting out a grunt as a shard embedded itself in her thigh and brought her to one knee as the other Prince watched the pandemonium with a confused look. Kaze shielded Azura, too, knocking the shards out of the air with the concealed weapons he’d hidden on his person. Hinoka shouted in surprise as Azama and Setsuna both shielded her, the retainers throwing her to the ground and covering her with their own bodies. Rinkah dove and rolled beneath the blast, hiding herself behind a nearby vendor as the magical flames washed over the area, and Ryoma turned to take the shards on his shoulder guard with an enraged roar. As the flames closed on Hoshido’s oldest prince he let out another shout, slicing through the magic with his sword.

The citizens attending the festival weren’t as quick or lucky, though. Many fell, impaled on the razor sharp shards in a mist of blood and magical fire. A second wave of dark purple flames spread out from the mysterious robed figure, the sound of distorted laughter mingling with the screaming of the citizens as the flames threw bodies into the air and demolished the nearby buildings with the force of its blast.

The ground around them was charred black, but Corrin was numb to everything around him. In his arms, Mikoto, his mother, groaned weakly. Her pristine white robes were charred, and blood was steadily blossoming along one side of it. Sweat beaded her brow and clearly she was in pain, but her grimace became a tired smile when she looked up at Corrin.

“I’m… glad,” she gasped. “That… you’re not… hurt…”

With one trembling hand she reached up, her movements agonizingly slow, and stroked Corrin’s cheek. Her feather-light caress left a streak of blood and soot on the Prince’s face. Not knowing what to do Corrin took the hand in his own, his face a slack, shocked expression.

“What’s… happening?” he asked, looking up at the chaos.

Citizens screamed and fled where once they had reveled and made merry. Ryoma had his sword in his hand, and was already charging at the robed figure as even more were emerging from the shadows and from the press of the fleeing crowd. Rinkah shouted for a weapon, and Kaze tossed her one of his knives. The others were pulling themselves to their feet with agonizing slowness, clearly dazed by the consecutive blasts. He didn’t know what to do-

_Corrin gave a shout, falling flat on his face. Before him a tall, broad figure stands defiant. “Fire”. The man, wielding the same sword as Ryoma, knocks the first few arrows out of the air, but is too slow, and is killed as numerous others pierce his flesh. Corrin watches, tears running down his face, as his father King Sumeragi dies with an arrow embedded in one eye. Footsteps approach, and Corrin finds himself unable to look away from the defiant snarl frozen on his dead father’s face. “Such a fool” a cruel voice laughs. Someone grabs him by the arm, pulling him up. King Garon looks down at him, a wide smile on his face. “You are my son now, boy.”_

With a start, Corrin returned to his senses as Mikoto let out a weak cough.

“It’s… okay…” she managed to mutter. “Don’t… cry…”

The small, slender hand in his own went weak as Corrin realized that tears were flowing down his cheeks.

With one final, shuddering breath Mikoto died in her son’s arms, a smile on her face.

Not knowing what else to do, Corrin collapsed over her body, screaming.

And then, pain.

Like fire in his veins, like blades carving him up beneath his skin, tearing him apart and remaking him into something else.

Like back at the Canyon, when Hans had tried to kill him.

With another anguished cry, Corrin felt the back of his suit tear as something exploded from his back, the rest of his clothes falling away in tatters as he grew. His skin hardened, his teeth extended into razor sharp fangs. The last thing he knew before the world was replaced by a red haze was the sight of a great, scaled claw gently laying his mother’s body on the ground.

*

Azura watched in horror as Corrin’s form changed, growing to twice, then three times his original size. Wings sprouted from his back as his face grew longer, his skin turned to scales and…

“What the hells is going on!?” Rinkah shouted.

At her side Kaze dropped to his knees, his eyes wide. “L-lord Corrin is… a dragon?”

Before they could act a number of the semi-visible robed figures from the crowd rushed Corrin, clearly hoping to catch him before his transformation finished, but he spun and lashed out with a long, reptilian tail, sending them sprawling. Then he was on the attackers, tearing and rending with claws longer than Kaze’s daggers.

“What’s… is that Corrin!?” Hinoka asked, joining them.

“We have to stop him,” Azura said, stepping forward. “Where’s Takumi?”

“He left,” Hinoka spat. “Oboro’s over there with Sakura and Hana, but Takumi fled with his little gaggle of jackasses.”

More of the robed figures began to crowd around where Ryoma was dueling with their leader, but two more figures emerged from the receding crowd wearing Hoshidan ninja gear, and began to fend them off of their lord.

“I was wondering why I hadn’t seen Saizo all day,” Kaze muttered absently.

The dragon-creature that had once been Corrin let out an ear-splitting roar, accompanied by a blast of flames at the closest robed figures. However, in its rage the Corrin-dragon clearly wasn’t intent on controlling its incredible power, and a number of the more whole shops behind the robed figures were incinerated along with them. Their clothes and hair whipping about in the scalding back-draft of the dragon’s breath, Azura and the others stepped back.

“Such incredible power…” Rinkah muttered.

“We need to stop him!” Azura repeated. “Hinoka, can you take Kaze and Rinkah and keep the robed… things busy?”

“Uh, yeah…” the princess nodded, still warily eying the dragon.

The creature lifted its head to the sky, shrieking again and blasting a jet of flames into the air. Even the robed figures were beginning to retreat from it now, exchanging glances in the face of the transformed Corrin’s fury.

“Kaze, I need a knife,” Azura went on.

“Of course, Lady Azura,” the ninja said, holding a kunai out to her.

“Now go!” she said urgently. “We can still save Corrin, but I need to get his attention. Keep the attackers away from us.”

“How do you… y’know what? I don’t care, just help him,” Hinoka said, before turning to look over her shoulder. “Azama, Setsuna! You gonna sit around all day, or are we doing this!?”

The two retainers, having just returned to their feet, sighed as they fell in with Hinoka and the others, leaving Azura to face Corrin alone. With a deep breath she lifted the gemmed amulet that hung from her neck at all times and struck it with Kaze’s dagger. When nothing happened she struck the large, sky-blue gem again, and a third time, before finally it broke and a small shard came off. Immediately Azura was hit with a sickening wave of vertigo, but she shook her head and steeled her resolve.

Corrin let out another bestial roar, blasting more flames at the closest attackers and levelling even more buildings. At this rate the transformed prince would do more damage to the town that the initial attack had.

Tossing the dagger aside, Azura began to approach Corrin’s draconic form. There was no hesitation in her stride, just the same calm, ethereal confidence she always presented. Yet inside her heart trembled with fear at the thought of not being able to save Corrin.

The words of her song came unbidden to her lips as she approached, holding up her hands at her sides non-threateningly.

_“You are the ocean of waves, weaving a dream, like thoughts become a river stream, yet may the tide ever change, flowing like time, to the path, yours to climb.”_

The Corrin-dragon hesitated, turning its burning red eyes on the approaching woman as she continued to sing. As she came closer he lowered his muzzle to her level, eyes narrowing slightly. Encouraged, Azura continued to sing.

_“Thou seek the light, with an outstretched hand, now a whi-”_

Like a flash of lightning the dragon’s forepaw shot out, smashing into Azura’s chest and pressing her to the ground. She gave a little squeak as all the air was crushed out of her, a small, strangled gasp the only sound she could make with the fang-filled maw descending on her.

“If… you’re going to k-kill me…” she managed to force out, “I d-don’t… mind… b-but… do it… as… your… self…”

The dragon stopped, its hot breath washing across Azura’s face as tears began to flow from her eyes.

“Please… Corrin… Remember…” she begged.

As if a switch had been flicked the dragon blinked, rearing back. As it lifted it’s claw off of Azura’s chest she slowly reached up, every movement bringing pain in her bruised ribs and shoulders, and pressed the shard of the gem still in her hand to the side of the Corrin-dragon’s face.

The result was almost immediate. With a low growl that slowly became a pained groan, Corrin shrank back down to his human size. Naked and staggering, Corrin fell to one knee before looking up to survey the carnage that had been wrought not just by the mysterious attackers, but by himself as well. He turned his gaze onto Azura as she sat up, blinking his now-red eyes in confusion as he gasped for breath. The princess absently noticed his ears were pointed now, too, and stood up from beneath the mop of white hair on his head.

“What… did I do?” he asked, his voice a whisper.


	12. Chapter 12

The next few hours passed as a blur to Corrin. Looking back all he really remembered was Kaze wrapping him up in a shredded tarp from one of the broken market stalls before the Prince passed out, then brief flashes of being carried and manhandled until he awoke again in his old room in Shirasagi’s palace. Azura was at his side when he woke, the former Nohrian Princess giving a relieved sigh as he finally opened his eyes.

“Thank the Twelve Dragons you are alright,” she breathed.

The blue haired girl crossed the room from where she was kneeling, doing what Corrin couldn’t see, and knelt down by his bedside. She slid a hand beneath his shoulders, helping him into a sitting position. As he rose Corrin realized that Rinkah was there as well, a slightly softer expression on the dour woman’s face as she rested on the wall next to the door.

“How do you feel?” Azura asked softly.

Corrin looked up at her, the dancer’s face still filthy from what had transpired in the town. From the looks of her battered and torn clothing she hadn’t left his side at all. Rinkah, either, Corrin realized with another glance.

“I’m fine. Ow. Alright, I feel like hell, but I’ll live. Are you?”

Corrin blinked as the words left his mouth, his speech sounding oddly slurred. Not enough to be perceptible to anyone else, but he could tell. As if there was something in the way of his speech. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth, eyes widening as he found his canines.

Or rather… his fangs. There were sharp, pointed fangs in his mouth.

“Corrin…” Azura started soothingly.

“What the hell?” he asked, his hands rising unconsciously to his mouth.

Fangs. His fingers gently probed, finding elongated fangs where his canines used to be.

“I need a mirror,” he said quickly, trying to rise.

Azura stalled him, placing her hand on his chest. “You need your rest. Rinkah… will bring a mirror for you.”

The dancer shot the Flame Tribe warrior a pointed look and Rinkah snorted, but rose all the same and stepped out of the room. Corrin noticed she was moving with a slight limp, favoring her right side. Bandages flashed through a new hole in her baggy pants, Corrin’s brow furrowing as he turned to Azura.

“And we’re all fine, Corrin,” Azura added reassuringly, preempting his question. “A few bumps and bruises, nothing that the priests could not handle. You were by far the worst off. News of your recovery will be welcome, indeed.”

Corrin gave a sharp gasp through clenched teeth, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to his brow.

“Mother…”

When he opened his eyes again Azura’s shoulders had sagged, as if she carried an incredibly heavy burden.

“Nothing could be done,” she whispered, tears welling up in the corners of her own eyes. “There will be a funeral, and Ryoma will ascend the throne.”

Corrin groaned in despair, lowering his face into his hands. “Gods…”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Azura practically whispered to him, her voice hoarse.

“I brought this calamity on Hoshido-” Corrin began.

“And if you hadn’t it would have come sooner or later, anyway,” Rinkah cut in, reappearing. “Make no mistake, Nohr has been poised to strike for months. I’ve seen it myself. You were just a convenient excuse. Now stop wallowing in pity. There’s much that will need doing now. Here’s the damn mirror.”

Corrin blinked up at the Flame Tribe woman, her harsh words and tone actually making him feel a little better as she handed the little hand-mirror to Azura. Rinkah huffed, crossing her arms and taking a step back as Azura gave him a strange look.

“Corrin, I know this may be a lot to handle, but I’m going to need you to stay calm,” she said evenly.

“Oh gods. Show me,” he said.

Azura gave a single nod and held up the small mirror.

And a stranger stared back at him.

Not exactly a stranger, he realized. It was still his face, just… different. His mouth went slack, the tips of his new fangs revealed. With shaking hands he reached up, gently running the tips of his fingers over the elongated, pointed ears on the sides of his head. Experimentally he pinched the pointed tip of one. It hurt. They were his ears. This was no dream. Most distressing, though, were his eyes.

The irises of his eyes were a deep crimson, the colour of fresh blood.

“What fresh hell is this?” he asked no one in particular.

No answer was forthcoming.

*

In Shirasagi’s throne room Ryoma resisted the urge to run a hand down his face, the clamoring of scared and angry nobility behind him driving the Prince to his wit’s end. His gaze inevitably fell, as it had so often in the last few hours, to his mother’s throne; the ivory throne of the ruler of Hoshido. His throne now. Across the armrests of the great chair sat the Yato blade, the long straight sword slumbering and awaiting the right wielder to come now that its previous owner was gone.

He had tried to pull the weapon from its sheathe, to no avail. Raijinto, his sacred sword of lighting and one of the treasures of Hoshido, still heeded his call, but the Yato would not budge for him. Nor Takumi or Hinoka, both of whom had also tried to draw the weapon. It was an almost frightening thought, that the ruler of Hoshido would not be able to wield the Yato. He felt it as a failing on his own part, not being able to draw the sword. Hinoka could wield Raijinto, as much as she didn’t like to, and Ryoma knew for a fact that Takumi had tested whether or not Sakura could wield his Fujin Yumi. But his mother had made the Yato almost a symbol of her power and authority, and not being able to draw the blade weighed heavily on him.

“Alright, enough! Shut up!” Hinoka snarled at the base of the throne’s pulpit. “We understand your concerns! But shouting and arguing accomplish nothing!”

Takumi stood to the other side of the pulpit in silence, watching the events occur with a neutral look on his face. Reina, her late mother’s retainer who would usually have been present, too, was busy consoling a distraught Sakura, leaving the three royals with only Yukimura as their back up.

“Princess Hinoka you and Prince Ryoma must see reason!” one of the more verbose noblemen practically snarled. Hinoka recognized him as one of Takumi’s toadies, her patience clearly wearing ever thinner as the spectacled man shouted above the others. “This is a direct act of aggression against Hoshido from Nohr! We must gather our allies and strike now!”

A number of noblemen voiced their agreement, far fewer voicing discontent.

“You will remember your place, Senno, and show the royal family the respect they deserve,” Yukimura said calmly from Hinoka’s side.

“Respect!?” Senno spat. “All I see are two children too afraid to defend their homeland! Even after-”

“Do not speak another word!” Hinoka snarled, stomping through the crowd at the man. “You claim we are cowards, very well! I will show you just how cowardly I am, scum-”

“Hinoka, that is enough!” Ryoma called from the top of the dais. “Senno, you forget yourself.”

“I merely say what many of the others also think,” the nobleman said, his tone slightly more deferential now. “To let this act of unbridled aggression against us go unpunished…”

This time no one present voiced their disagreement; all were in consensus that someone had to pay for what had happened that day.

“It will not,” Ryoma declared, his regal voice carrying to the very corners of the throne room. “But you must remember that Hoshido is undefended by my… by Queen Mikoto’s barrier spell now. We must act carefully and not overcommit, lest our countrymen be the ones to suffer for it. We will not act as the aggressors, but if Nohr will have war then Hoshido will not back down! There will be war!”

The unified roar of approval shook the very rafters, every man and woman present braying for blood after the tragedy of the day. Yukimura watched on, his silent frown going unnoticed as he regretted the need to answer violence with even more violence.

“And who will lead the armies of Hoshido?” another noble asked from the back of the room once the commotion died down. Hinoka glared at the man; Daichi was his name, another of Takumi’s lot and the head of a prestigious blacksmithing family.

“I will, as I have these last five years,” Ryoma declared.

“And leave the throne empty?” the blacksmith noble asked. “Prince Ryoma, I hate to have to admit this, but I feel there may be a slight conflict of interest if you were to retain both positions. You know the laws as well as any other, good prince.”

A murmur rippled throughout the throne room at this statement, eyes turning towards the throne again to see how Ryoma would react. The Samurai General and the ruler of Hoshido were different roles for a reason; it had been decided long ago that no one man or woman could wield that much power, and that one be answerable only to the other. It was a system that had been in place for hundreds of years, and Ryoma did indeed know this. Not even in a time of great unrest such as this could the tradition be overturned. But his only options were his untested siblings, or some unworthy, simpering political tool of the nobility.

“Do any others share these feelings of discontent?” he asked, his voice soft. “Do you doubt my ability to lead our nation and our armies simultaneously?”

Silence reigned for a moment before a man in familiar dark armor stepped forward, Haitaka raising his gaze to look Ryoma directly in the face. “Perhaps, Lord Ryoma, honored Daichi speaks some truth.”

Hinoka grimaced as a new wave of agreements swept through the crowd of noblemen, looking to her brother to see his reaction. Ryoma closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath before nodding.

“Very well,” he declared. “From this day forth I step down as Samurai General so that, once the traditional period of mourning has passed, I may assume my mother’s throne.”

The throne room was utterly silent as those present waited to see who Ryoma, as both the Samurai General and reigning monarch of Hoshido, would name as his successor. Hinoka’s heart almost stopped when his gaze fell on her, an apologetic grin alighting on his face.

“I hereby declare Princess Hinoka my successor and the new Samurai General of Hoshido.”

Chaos erupted, a slew of warriors and noblemen all screaming that they had a better claim to the title, and in most cases Hinoka agreed with them. She was barely more than a child, only a few years out of her training. Despite being of royal blood she had also made little headway in the Sky Knights, not like people like Reina or Sakura’s retainer Subaki. Yukimura did his best to try and calm the crowd, Ryoma glaring out at the mass of bodies silently, waiting for the chance to explain his decision. Takumi…

Takumi was grinning. Something about that grin sent chills down Hinoka’s spine, why she wasn’t sure.

Once the crowd had begun to quiet down Senno stepped forward again, clearing his throat. “With all due respect, I feel that once again there will be a conflict of interest were Princess Hinoka to inherit the position, Prince Ryoma. As a Sky Knight she is already a member of an arm of the Royal’s military faction.”

A slew of agreements came from within the faceless crowd, making Hinoka grind her teeth in annoyed frustration. The Sky Knights served the Hoshidan Royal Family. It was their right alone, along with the Royal Guard, to wear their armor in the Royal Family’s colors. Hinoka wore her white armor with pride, and knew that every other member of the Sky Knights did, too. They were the best, on par with the Royal Guard, some of the best warriors in all of Hoshido, and the people loved them for it. Were it not for her duties as Princess, Hinoka would be with the rest of the Knights and squires in the decimated castle town tending to the people even now.

But the Samurai General commanded all of Hoshido’s armies. Ryoma had only been made Samurai General due to his ties to his betrothed’s family; it was why he wore red armor instead of white. None doubted that he was a worthy commander. The results spoke for themselves. Since he had assumed the position attacks by the Faceless had become far less frequent, and when they did happen the armies responded almost immediately. None of the country lords ever argued with him, always jumping at his command. Nohr hadn’t made it past the border guards in years. But still, the fact that he was Crown Prince had loomed over him, tainting his position and forcing him to be the exemplar of everything a proper Samurai should be. Hinoka knew she couldn’t match her brother’s deeds or bearing. As she was she’d be a poor choice to replace him.

“I assume you would be a better candidate, then?” Ryoma asked, arching one brow.

“Of course not, Prince Ryoma, I would never presume to be so bold,” Senno said quickly, bowing low. “But I do have a suggestion, if I may.”

“Speak, Senno,” Ryoma said.

“I suggest that Prince Takumi should become Samurai General of Hoshido.”

Chaos erupted again, more nobles crying out discontent at the clear favoritism that was being shown to the royal family. However, unlike for Hinoka, a number of voices rose in Takumi’s defense. Hinoka had known for quite some time now that she wasn’t the political animal that both of her brothers were, and neither was Sakura. Hinoka was a warrior and a Sky Knight, and had dedicated herself to that path to rescue their brother Corrin, and Sakura was a priestess-in-training trying to follow their mother’s footsteps. Clearly, though, if the amount of supporters for her brother were any indication, Takumi had been busy currying favor among the nobility of Hoshido for quite some time.

“Silence!” Ryoma finally thundered. “I brought you all here to deal with this crisis, not argue and bicker like children! Very well, if Princess Hinoka will not accept the position then I have no choice but to offer it to Prince Takumi in the interim period.”

Takumi stepped forward, an insufferable grin rising to his face as he met the discontented mutterings and approving nods both, standing tall and proud. Hinoka hadn’t missed his little twitch at the words ‘interim period’, but clearly he wasn’t going to let that put a damper on his victory.

“I accept,” Takumi declared, his voice strong. “And for my first order as Samurai General… Prince Corrin of Nohr is to be taken into custody for the murder of Queen Mikoto and the attack on Shirasagi’s Castle Town.”

Hinoka took a few threatening steps towards her brother before Ryoma held up his hand, the Princess snarling in the face of Takumi’s composed mask. “Are you out of your damn mind!?”

“He brought this tragedy upon us,” Takumi pointed out. “Hundreds dead, including our Queen. The magical barrier is gone. I can’t help but find his arrival to be… convenient the way it coincides with these events.”

“You little snake-”

“Hinoka, enough,” Ryoma barked, turning toward Yukimura.

The bespectacled older man was in deep conversation with a messenger from the Canyon, his eyes wide and his flesh pale.

“Yukimura?” Ryoma asked.

The strategist looked up, mopping his brow. “All of this may need to wait. We have received word that Nohr has crossed the Canyon with an army of thousands. By all reports… it is an invasion force the likes of which we have never seen before. And they are headed directly for Shirasagi.”

*

Corrin glanced up from the mirror in his hands at a tentative knock on the door to his room. He had hardly moved since he’d seen the stranger staring back at him. Azura and Rinkah both glanced up as well, the two women waiting with differing levels of patience for Corrin to snap out of his daze. Azura had continued to work on whatever it was she was crafting in the corner, and Rinkah had simply squatted against the wall beneath his window, waiting for him to do something. At some point it had gotten dark and someone had lit the lanterns in the room, but Corrin hadn’t noticed. They had brought him clothes, too; another simple black training gi which he had donned without conscious thought before going back to glaring at his reflection.

“Prince Corrin?” Kaze called from outside the room.

“Enter,” Corrin replied, his voice hoarse and tired as he looked back down.

Kaze slid the door open, the ninja bowing low as he did before moving aside to allow the visitors entry. A pathetic looking Sakura, followed by a stone-faced Reina, stepped into the room as Kaze slid around them and closed the door again, taking up position just inside the room where Rinkah had been when he’d woken up. Before the door had closed Corrin had spotted a flash of red hair and white armor as Sakura’s retainer Subaki took up position guarding the outside of the room. He didn’t see Hana, though, and that thought worried him.

Sakura herself was a mess. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she still sniffled, as if she couldn’t quite control her tears. Her clothes, too, were still the tattered yukata she’d been wearing to the festival, dirty and torn and utterly ruined.

“Hello sister,” Corrin said, looking up at her.

The younger girl let out a horrified gasp at his appearance, and even Reina hesitated a moment. Fresh tears rose to the young girl’s eyes as she shuffled forward, moving to kneel at Corrin’s side.

“Is… th-this…” she managed to mumble.

She reached up as she spoke, Corrin inclining his head so she could feel one of his ears. Soft fingers gingerly brushed the pointed tip of the ear he had squeezed earlier, and Corrin gave a small grin. His new fangs glinted slightly in the lantern light.

“I don’t think it’s that bad a look,” he said quietly.

As he spoke Corrin leaned forward, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. The way he would have with Elise. Sakura stiffened at the contact but let out a breath, relaxing against her brother.

“I’m glad… you’re okay,” Sakura whispered, her voice shaky. “You are… okay, right?”

“Near as I can tell,” Corrin replied, leaning back again. “And I’m glad you’re safe, too. Is Hana alright?”

“She will be,” Sakura nodded. “She needed to rest. I… healed her myself. H-her and Oboro, both.”

Corrin sighed with relief. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad they’re both okay. Was anyone else hurt?”

“No one, Prince Corrin,” Reina supplied helpfully. “A few superficial wounds, nothing serious.”

The Prince gave another relieved sigh, looking down again. Sakura tilted her head as his newly elongated ears came back into view, a frown marring her pretty face again.

“What… happened?” she asked.

Corrin couldn’t help but smirk. “I, uh… am apparently a dragon.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Rinkah scoffed.

“I guess it makes sense why Nohr guarded you so jealously when they captured you,” Azura supplied. “Garon must have known somehow. Perhaps that is also why your memories were sealed?”

“Maybe,” Corrin assented. “I don’t… I don’t know what to think anymore. It’s… a lot to take in. I don’t even know if they’ll recognize me at all back in Nohr, now.”

“If your Nohrian brothers and sisters love you as much as you say then I’m sure they will,” Azura said, her tone taking on a playful air. “You don’t look that different.”

Corrin and Sakura glanced up as the lithe dancer finally removed herself from whatever task she had been occupied with, approaching where the others sat with a tired gait that seemed so out of place on the normally graceful woman. In her hands she cradled a small pendant hanging from a delicate chain. It appeared to be a smaller, simpler version of the pendant she wore, complete with a small shard of blue gemstone the same as…

“Oh, Azura, your pendant!” Sakura said suddenly.

Corrin refocused his gaze, realizing that there was now a large scar across one side of her pendant, and a sizeable chip was missing from the gem.

“It is okay,” Azura said kindly, turning to Corrin. “Here. If you wear this it will suppress your draconic tendencies. It will stop you from transforming again, and it should help to regulate your mood some.”

Corrin nodded, allowing her to slip the chain on over his head. The pendant fell down onto his chest, Azura placing her hand atop it flush with his body for a moment as she gazed into his eyes. Her own orbs were captivating, like the endless sky above Shirisagi. Such a deep, calming blue, the exact opposite of Corrin’s deep, aggressive blood-red irises. Corrin felt his breath hitch.

“As long as you wear this, we are connected,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

With a nod, Corrin held his hand over hers for a moment before releasing her. Azura moved back, sinking into a sitting position on the floor herself now.

“I fear my fatigue is beginning to catch up with me now,” she said, a ghost of a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

“I think we’re all starting to feel it,” Reina added with a small smile at Sakura, who gave a meek little nod.

Rinkah, however, scoffed and crossed her arms. “Speak for yourselves. Flame Tribe warriors can fight on for days at a time without sleeping or eating.”

“Good, then you can keep watch,” Corrin grinned.

Rinkah grit her teeth as the others gave a few weak, tired laughs. Corrin grinned, leaning back and letting his fingers drift to the pendant hanging over his clothes. It felt warm, almost body temperature. But not as if someone had been wearing it, more like heat was radiating from within it, from within the shard of the gem. The Prince found it oddly comforting.

They all glanced up at the door as some sort of ruckus interrupted the easy mood they had finally established, and when shouting reached them from outside Corrin and Azura were instantly on their feet. Kaze and Reina both moved to the door, hands reaching for concealed weapons as Corrin interposed himself between the door and the two girls behind him. Rinkah just grinned, as if this was what she had been waiting for, stepping forward and hefting the axe that was never far from her side.

Finally the door shot open, Subaki’s usually refined and cultured tone clipped and strained as he shouted. “Unhand me! I don’t care whose orders you’re under, unhand me!”

Corrin tensed, wishing he’d still had a weapon. But Ganglari was gone, and now he was as good as defenseless.

Men in black armor barged into the room, more outside restraining Subaki as he struggled to throw them off, clearly wary of harming them. The men wore no expressions, and some had even gone so far as to don snarling half-masks of the same material as their armor. Seven large men, made all the larger in their full armor, piled into the room, standing ramrod straight at attention and glaring at the room’s occupants. The scent of steel and Hoshido’s odd lacquer armor was almost overpowering in the small space.

With a start Corrin realized they were all dressed for war.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Reina snapped, barring their way with Kaze.

One of the soldiers stepped forward from the rest, a younger man with messy brown hair and a small scar on one cheek. He wore less armor than the rest, only a simple black breastplate over his clothes, and carried a long, ornate katana. Corrin recalled dimly that he’d seen the man at the banquet the previous day, what felt like a lifetime ago. One of Takumi’s retainers, Hinata.

“Step aside, Lady Reina,” Hinata said, his voice hollow. “We are under orders from Samurai General Takumi to arrest Prince Corrin.”

“And what are the charges?” the older woman persisted.

“Treason,” a familiar voice called above the noise.

Outside Subaki stilled, the soldiers around him separating and making a path into the room. Even those inside stepped aside, crowding the entrance and forcing Kaze and Reina to take a few steps back into the room as Takumi strode in, an insufferable grin on his face. Only Hinata remained standing in the doorway, taking up position at Takumi’s shoulder as he bounced his sheathed sword against his own.

“Hello sister, Azura,” he said pleasantly. “I’m glad to see you both well-”

“Takumi what are you doing!?” Sakura asked, her voice shrill.

The younger prince, now apparently the Samurai General as well, stopped as Sakura came out from behind Corrin. Angry tears were running down her face as she glared at her brother and her delicate little fists were clenched, but Takumi seemed unfazed.

“I am protecting our home,” he said evenly, “and punishing the villains that stole our mother from us.”

“Funny, I thought they were already dead,” Rinkah said, her voice a soft purr at the tension in the room.

“You will respect your place you Flame Tribe savage!” Takumi suddenly thundered, rounding on her. “Speak out of turn again and I will have you executed on the spot!”

Before Rinkah could test whether or not Takumi was bluffing Azura stepped forward, not-so-subtly positioning herself between him and Corrin. “You’re going too far, Takumi.”

The youngest prince’s eyes narrowed as he turned up his nose. “Our mother showed you kindness and compassion, Nohrian. Far more than was deserving of a prisoner. You were family to us. And this is how you repay her kindness? Her memory? By shielding her killer?”

“I didn’t kill her!” Corrin said, finally snapping and taking a few steps forward around Azura. “You’re just looking for someone to blame now-”

His head snapped aside at Takumi’s vicious backhand, Corrin stumbling a few steps before he managed to catch himself.

Weapons came up in an instant, Rinkah, Kaze and Reina all interposing themselves between the soldiers and the royalty as Takumi stood tall. Corrin glared up at the man that was supposed to be his brother, feeling his heart break at the betrayal.

“I will never be caged again,” Corrin declared slowly, his eyes narrowing. “Not by anyone, not for anything, and certainly not because you’re lashing out in your grief.”

“Very well,” Takumi said, holding his hand and massaging the knuckles as he looked back and forth between the eyes of those facing him. “I see you’ve all made your decision. Arrest them all. I’ll take care of my sister. Do as you please with the Nohrian filth. But I want them alive.”

“Like I’d allow-” Subaki snarled from outside, his voice cut off as one of the soldiers punched him hard in the stomach.

“You always were a power hungry little bastard,” Reina hissed, glaring daggers at Takumi as she loomed protectively over Sakura. Clearly there was some old enmity there that Corrin wasn’t privy to.

“And you were always a vulgar old sow,” Takumi snapped. “Why my mother put up with you-”

“Why don’t you order your men to attack, and you’ll see exactly why she kept me around,” Reina cut him off, the promise of violence fairly radiating off of her as she raised her dagger and dropped into a ready stance.

“Prince Takumi, think this through,” Kaze implored.

“Forget it, Kaze,” Corrin sighed, his face hardening. “He won’t listen. But I won’t go quietly. I’ll need a weapon.”

Rinkah shoved a curved, ceremonial dagger into his hands, her eyes never leaving the soldiers arrayed before them. Her face was a savage grin, as if she were enjoying this.

“Bah! Try not to kill them!” Takumi snapped disinterestedly. “Take them n-”

Whatever he was going to say was lost in the strange yelp the prince let out, ducking aside and almost barreling over Hinata as he moved away from Ryoma, hand still raised from where he had chopped his brother in the top of the head. The scene would have almost been comical if not for the murderous rage in Ryoma’s eyes.

“We are on the cusp of war,” the oldest prince said, his voice eerily calm. “And this is how the new Samurai General deems to waste his time?”

“It is not a waste-” Takumi started, suddenly sounding like a petulant child.

“It is a waste,” Ryoma cut him off, an edge of steel in his soft voice now. “You men, report to your captains and make ready. Hinata, I expect better from you. All of you, get out. Takumi, go do something that doesn’t make me regret giving you this position.”

The soldiers looked back and forth between Takumi and Ryoma for a few heartbeats, caught by indecision. However, clearly the orders of the future King won out, and the men all saluted and filed out, albeit reluctantly. Hinata hesitated before bowing to Ryoma and moving to wait outside with a visibly bristling Subaki. The red-haired man looked like he was about to pounce on the other retainer, but held himself in check with a deep, calming breath, instead looking to his lord Sakura to ensure she was unharmed. Takumi, for his part, openly goggled at Ryoma, the younger man red in the face. Tendons stood out like cables beneath Takumi’s neck, and veins throbbed on his forehead. Corrin thought he’d explode at any moment, but with clear effort Takumi forced himself to calm down, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Ryoma watched all of this with a slight furrow to his brow, as if he were disappointed with his brother’s actions.

“Congratulations, Ryoma,” Takumi said after a time, his voice a strangled whisper and his eyes still closed. “You’ve undermined me in front of my soldiers. My first act as Samurai General. No one will ever take me seriously now.”

“And I told you outright that we had bigger things to worry about,” Ryoma said evenly.

“Justice for mother is that unimportant to you!?” Takumi seethed, his eyes snapping open now.

“Compared to the lives of all of our countrymen? Yes,” Ryoma said honestly. “And you know she would agree with me.”

Takumi made a disgusted sound and spun, stomping away from them. He cast one last withering glare over his shoulder at Corrin, his gaze promising a reckoning, before brushing past Subaki and Hinata. Ryoma shook his head, watching as the youngest prince stormed out of the room, the sounds of his heavy footfalls receding rapidly in the hall as Hinata jogged to keep up. Once he was gone Ryoma let out a tired sigh, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Prepare yourselves,” the older Prince said, fatigue dripping from his voice. “We march to war. Corrin, I want you by my side when we do.”

*

The next few days of preparation passed as a blur for Corrin, everything running together into a string of preparation and training for the march to meet the invading army. He trained alone or with Yuzu and Kaze now, Hinoka and Emma busy with preparations among the Sky Knights and Sakura still too distraught to do much of anything. Takumi was taking no chances, calling in all the soldiers from all the territories of Hoshido and its allies, many of whom would join them on the march. Many units of Hoshidan soldiers had already gone ahead to set up forward bases, groups of ninja led by Ryoma’s own retainers going even further and scouting the enemy forces.

They would be meeting Nohr at the Plains of Hoshido, the only vast, open space in the kingdom where they could meet the invading army and use the terrain to their advantage. The forests and mountains hindered either the infantry or the Pegasus Knights, but the plain was littered with crags and hills, rivers and fissures that would fill with runoff during the rainy season. Nohr’s greatest strength, their cavalry, would be stymied and bottlenecked by the very terrain, which would hardly hamper the local troops at all.

Corrin thought all of this as he trained, swinging his wooden practice sword in the arcs that Gunter had drilled into him almost unconsciously as he fretted about the coming battle. The old Knight would have given Corrin the hiding of his life if he saw his sloppy form and half-hearted movements right now, but still the prince couldn’t concentrate.

War. War was upon them. The very thing he’d promised his mother he would try to avert. How could he stop it now, as two armies marched?

Could there ever be peace between the two nations?

He grunted, lowering his practice sword in disgust at himself, at his own weakness. Now wasn’t the time for him to be indecisive. He’d just have to go along and… figure something out. Corrin was sure that once he met with the Nohrian leaders, no doubt Xander or Leo, he could convince them to sit down with Ryoma and Takumi, to negotiate, to see reason. They were probably only attacking because they thought he needed rescuing in the first place. If they saw he was fine and well…

“Corrin!”

He glanced up at his name, spotting Ryoma crossing the training ground with two swords in his hands. One he recognized as Ryoma’s own sword, Raijinto. The eldest prince had been very proud as he’d shown his sacred blade off to Corrin, the long, thin sword crackling with electricity like restrained lightning as he’d held it up for Corrin’s inspection.

The other sword was their late mother’s, the Yato.

Corrin waited for Ryoma to come closer, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his free hand. Ryoma wore an ornate white kimono tied with a red sash instead of his usual armor, his long hair tied back from his angular, patrician face. He looked tired to Corrin. Tired and emotionally wounded, as they wall were, but putting on a brave front for their scared countrymen.

“Good morning, brother,” Corrin said, a small grin rising to his face. “You’re the first one besides Sakura to come see me since…”

He trailed off before he could say _Takumi tried to arrest me_ , but the meaning behind his silence was clear. Ryoma nodded, clearing his throat bashfully.

“Unfortunately we’ve been busy,” the Prince said. “Hinoka’s order has already deployed. She wanted to see you before they left, but there wasn’t time.”

“The Sky Knights are part of the advance scouting force, right?” Corrin said, looking away. “Scout the enemy positions, harry their advance, try and slow them down without over-committing.”

“You’ve been talking to Yukimura,” Ryoma said with a soft laugh.

Corrin shook his head. “No, actually. I’ve been trained in tactics. It’s what I would have done.”

Ryoma nodded. “She’ll be fine. She’s probably already bored with the scouting missions and waiting for us to get there. But that’s not why I’m here. Catch.”

Corrin glanced up in time to catch the sheathed Raijinto as Ryoma tossed it to him in a lazy underhand throw. He inspected the weapon’s beautiful, intricate hilt, the feeling of power radiating through the sheathe and into his hand. It felt like distant thunder on the horizon, holding the sword. It felt incredible.

“I’ve been waiting to get a chance to do this all week. See if you can draw the sword,” Ryoma said, crossing his arms over Yato.

Corrin gave him a curious look, glancing between his brother and the sword a few times before Ryoma laughed.

“I’ve tested it with Hinoka and Takumi,” he explained. “Sakura’s a little… small to wield it, but I’ll have her try it once she grows a little more. According to Takumi, though, she’s capable of wielding the Fujin Yumi, even if it is a little heavy for her. We’ve all tried the various treasures of Hoshido, and with a few exceptions we can all wield at least one. As is our birthright. I’d like to see if you can, too.”

“So… Takumi and Hinoka can use the Raijinto, too?” Corrin asked, studying the hilt again.

“Hinoka can, although she complains about the balance being off when she’s riding,” Ryoma said. “Takumi can’t draw it.”

Corrin nodded, dropping his wooden sword to the side and giving the blade a tug. It didn’t budge. He tried again, pulling harder, and was rewarded with a shock running up his arm as the sword clearly rejected him. Ryoma laughed as Corrin dropped the sword, the older man bending down to pick it up and tucking it safely into his belt.

“Don’t feel bad,” he laughed. “Takumi tried for nearly an hour before he gave up. His arm was numb for a week.”

Corrin couldn’t help but smirk at this information, but he soon found his gaze drifting down to the Yato blade still clenched in Ryoma’s hand. The older Prince followed his gaze, a small, sad smile rising to his face as he held out the sword much more reverently than he had passed Raijinto.

“Now this one…” he said, offering Yato up. “This one none of us could draw.”

Corrin nodded, hesitantly taking the sacred sword and feeling… nothing.

With a sinking feeling Corrin rested his hand on the hilt, giving it a hard yank like he had the Raijinto and expecting, at the very least, to be met with resistance. His jaw dropped, however, when the blade slid clean and almost slipped from his fingers. Ryoma, too, sucked in a surprised breath, but when Corrin had finished fumbling with the blade and looked up he saw only a smile on his brother’s face.

“I should have known you’d be the one it chose,” he said in a soft voice.

“Well it’s nice to know I am actually family,” Corrin said, giving the sword a few experimental swings.

Still he felt nothing from the weapon. It just felt like any other sword. But apparently none of the others had been able to draw it, so that had to mean something.

“At least it’s where it belongs now,” Ryoma said with finality.

“Wait, you want me to keep this?”

“Of course! The blade chose you.”

“I can’t keep… I mean, it’s Hoshido’s most sacred… you’ve got to be kidding!” Corrin spluttered.

Ryoma just chuckled, shaking his head and resting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It belongs with you. Wherever you may walk. Hold that blade, and let it be a reminder of your family, and of your home. Here, in Hoshido.”

Corrin nodded, swallowing hard and sheathing the blade.

“I also have one more present for you,” Ryoma said, his serious expression melting into a grin.

*

Resplendent in his newly gifted lacquered white armor plates, Corrin rode one of Hoshido’s few horses alongside Ryoma. He could tell, though, that the beast was not trained for war. It was nervous and twitchy around the crowd of Hoshidan soldiers, and Ryoma even allowed his own mount to be led by a young squire as they marched. The older Prince was once again wearing his deep red plate armor, polished to an almost mirror-like sheen, his red head-dress keeping the long, flowing hair from his face. Corrin had tied his own hair back in a small ponytail himself, surprised at how long it had grown in only a few weeks.

There had been a funeral for his mother, the late Queen Mikoto, before they had left. It had been a quiet affair, attended only by her children, retainers Yukimura and Reina, and a few select officials from important families with close ties to the Royal Family. There had also been an honor guard of white-armored warriors, who had stood silently and still as statues as the pyre had burned.

On the horse behind him Azura stirred, leaning around his shoulder to look ahead of them over Corrin’s tattered cape, the one that Camilla had made for him. Kaze, Yuzu and Rinkah both followed on foot, the Flame Tribe warrior muttering about having to walk while he rode for the entire journey.

Out of all of them Azura had been the most calming presence on the royals, especially Corrin. Consumed by anxiety over how he would avert this pending disaster she would often sit up with him in the last few days, distracting him by telling stories of her time in Hoshido. She spoke of festivals spent with the other Hoshidan royals, of growing up with her nanny who was almost like a second mother to all of them, of learning to dance. She even spoke of her memories with Mikoto, and it gave Corrin a small modicum of peace to know that his mother had been so loved by her people and her family both. And, he suspected, it allowed Azura that same peace. In the last few days he had come to think of the ethereal blue haired dancer almost as fondly as his sisters in Nohr, certainly more-so than the Hoshidans, something that made him feel more than a little guilty.

They were all here. Sakura was somewhere in the back ranks with the other healers, Reina watching over them. Takumi was somewhere on the left flank to the north, leading personally. Hinoka was with the Sky Knights on the right flank in the south, her own captain leading that section. Apparently Emma had been promoted recently to a full Knight as part of Hinoka’s squad, and was no doubt there, too. Kumagera and his Flame Tribe warriors had come, and were mixed in with Takumi’s forces. Yukimura followed Ryoma on a strange, mechanical striding contraption, almost like a headless machine horse.

This was it. Everything that Hoshido had to offer. More than ten thousand men, marching to meet Nohr’s Legions. From the reports Nohr had fielded all ten of its Legions. Ten thousand more men. An even match, but Hoshido had the home advantage. Corrin shuddered to think about what would happen here.

“Do not be afraid,” Azura whispered to him. “I’m here with you. We all are.”

“Who said I was afraid?” Corrin asked, his bravado ringing false even to his own ears.

Azura just smirked, resting her hand on his new pauldron before moving back to sit properly.

They emerged from the forest out into the Hoshidan Plains, Corrin giving an involuntary hiss at the brightness of the light after riding through the shade. Even after all this time, he still found the sun difficult to bear some times. When at last his vision cleared and he could see again the sight awaiting them took his breath away. Arrayed before them in all its military might was the Hoshidan frontline. They had rested at the forward camp the previous evening, and that had been impressive enough to Corrin, but this was on a whole different level. A quarter of the army had been left in reserve at the forward camp. In the distance was a fort, whose name Corrin hadn’t been privy to, that Takumi was leading from. Further bolstering their forces, a number of local militia and volunteer groups had joined the armies, swelling their ranks back to well over ten thousand at this side of the Plains. Everywhere Corrin looked there were more soldiers, men eating and waiting around fires or snoozing in the sun. Many of whom would die this day, unless he could talk some sense into his siblings.

His time ran out halfway to the frontlines, though, as signal horns began to sound from Takumi’s fort in the left flank to the north. Ryoma cursed under his breath, snatching the reins of his horse from the frightened squire.

“Dammit all, I thought we’d have more time! You, go to the Sky Knights and request support! Yukimura, you have command of the central section! Corrin, ride with me!” Ryoma commanded.

The young squire darted off instantly, making for the southern positions where the Sky Knights were based, and Corrin turned to his trio of followers.

“Kaze, Rinkah, Yuzu, follow on foot! Azura, hold on tight!”

“Of course,” the dancer said, pressing herself flush to his back as he urged his mount forward.

They charged after Ryoma, soldiers and support followers leaping aside from the two racing horses. Once again Corrin was struck, as he struggled to keep his mount following after Ryoma’s, just how poorly trained the creature was.

Takumi’s northern section of the line was situated in a small plateau, where the river forked before running down into the plains and the forest had grown into the grasslands. They charged up the hill without a thought, men in red suits of armor following after them with Kaze, Rinkah and Yuzu as Yukimura whipped the remaining squads in the central area into formation. As they came up to the top of the plateau Corrin and Ryoma both wheeled their mounts to a halt, Azura almost being thrown from the back of Corrin’s horse when it reared up.

An entire Legion, from the looks of the uniform black-armored Nohrian troops, was crossing the plain in perfect formation, heading for the southern-most bridge. Corrin craned his neck, looking behind them as more signal horns began to sound. More Nohrian forces were assaulting the line in the central and southern sections now, and Corrin felt a sinking sensation in his stomach.

“I’m too late…” he muttered brokenly.

“Not yet,” Azura urged from behind him, her soft voice carrying an edge of steel. “We can still stop this madness before it’s too late. But do not let misguided mercy be your downfall, Corrin.”

“Right,” Corrin nodded, before turning to Ryoma.

“There!” the High Prince called, pointing at the men assaulting Takumi’s forces. “At the rear of their formation! I see Prince Xander’s standard!”

Corrin didn’t need it pointed out to him; he’d already spotted a familiar horse and rider in black armor, Nohr’s own sacred sword Siegfried practically glowing in Xander’s mailed fist as he urged his troops forward. A number of squads broke from the Nohrians, circling around and moving to flank Takumi’s units which were only now beginning to move into position. But from their vantage point Ryoma and Corrin could clearly see that Takumi’s men were unaware of the flanking squad.

“Corrin, move to stop the flanking unit, I’ll bolster Takumi’s troops,” Ryoma called.

“He won’t like that,” Corrin warned.

“I don’t care!” Ryoma snapped, kicking his mount forward.

Corrin shook his head, urging his own mount onwards to intercept the Nohrians. Once they were closer he leapt from its back, Azura following him to the ground. They both knew that the skittish creature would be more of a hindrance in a fight, and Corrin sent it on its way with a firm hand to the backside. Azura hefted an ornate naginata as Corrin drew the Yato, apprehension filling his heart.

“Do you think we can do this without killing them?” he asked Azura as they stood before the charging Nohrians.

“We can try,” Azura said, stepping back into a ready stance.

As the Nohrians drew closer a shadow descended on them, two flying creatures falling from the sky amongst the soldiers and scattering them. Hinoka’s own naginata flashed as Reina rose up again, delivering arrows with unnerving accuracy. The Hoshidan princess swooped around, coming to a stop next to Corrin just long enough to allow a visibly shaking Sakura time to jump off her pegasus before urging it back into the air where it appeared an entire squad of Pegasus Knights were waiting for her. Unlike Hinoka, though, Reina rode a strange multi-winged bird, a rare Kinshi mount that was reserved for only the finest of Sky Knights; it was said their steady movements made it possible to accurately aim a bow from their backs, and judging by the rain of arrows Reina was continually unleashing that rumor was very true.

“Hinoka! Take your squad after the enemy units closer to Takumi’s position! We’ll handle this!”

The red-haired Princess gave him a thumbs-up gesture from her mount, calling out instructions to the rest of the Sky Knights. Corrin stepped forward, glancing down at Sakura as he passed her.

“Stay here with Azura! Kaze and the others will be along soon!” he said, before charging into the scattered Nohrian soldiers.

To Corrin’s surprise Azura charged right along with him, and they hit the Nohrian soldiers together. Corrin swept weapons aside, spinning into their midst as Azura hung back, using the reach of her naginata to its fullest as she pummeled the stunned soldiers with the haft or the flat of the blade. Watching her fight was like watching a dance; Azura’s flowing white clothes rippled with her hair, creating the illusion of running water in all of her movements that seemed incredibly out of place on a battlefield. Kaze’s description of her fighting style had done her grace little justice. So beautiful was her fighting that the prince had to remind himself he, too, was meant to be fighting, and was almost eviscerated by a young Nohrian swordsman for his distraction. Corrin, too, relied more on the flat of his blade, striking and bludgeoning with the sacred sword and lashing out with kicks and punches where he could. In short order the two of them had devastated the squad, and nearly twenty Nohrian soldiers lay groaning on the ground, wounded but alive. There were a few more seriously injured from Hinoka and Reina’s passes, but it appeared as if they, too, would live.

Giving one last look around to ensure they were out of immediate danger, and feeling a wave of relief as he spotted Kaze and the others approaching, Corrin rounded on Azura.

“What are you doing?” he asked seriously.

Azura glanced up, her breathing slightly heavier due to her exertions. Corrin absently noted he’d barely broken a sweat in the fight, but pushed the thought aside as he strode towards his friend.

“I was fighting,” she answered simply.

“I saw that,” Corrin said, rolling his eyes. “What I mean is, why are you charging headlong into the enemy without any armor? As pretty as that dress is, it’s not going to stop a sword.”

Azura smirked, glancing Corrin up and down. “There’s not as much as a scratch on me. Yet I see many on your new armor.”

Corrin opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again and looked down at himself. True to her words, there were various nicks and scratches taken out of his brand new lacquered plates, close calls he didn’t even remember. Shaking his head he couldn’t help but smirk at the absurdity.

“Just… promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I could say the same,” Azura said, a teasing note of laughter in her voice.

Shaking his head, Corrin went to speak but was forestalled when a loud shriek reached them. His first instinct was to look to Sakura, who had been left undefended, but Kaze, Yuzu and Rinkah had already joined the youngest Hoshidan Princess with their squad of red-armored soldiers. A second shriek, this time cut off half-way through, reached Corrin, and both he and Azura spun to see a pegasus falling out of the air, its rider already splayed on the ground at angles no living thing could make. In the air with the Sky Knights were two larger forms; Nohrian wyverns, and Corrin only knew of two wyvern riding warriors strong enough to take on an entire squad of Sky Knights alone.

“Come on, we have to hurry,” Corrin urged them.

With that the Prince took off, angling so he and Azura would catch up with the new Hoshidan squad as they moved. Beneath the deadly clash between the two wyvern riders and the Sky Knights a second squad of Nohrian soldiers were cutting through the Hoshidan line, and Corrin winced at every death-scream he heard. Above it all he could hear the distinctive snap-hum of Takumi’s Fujin Yumi firing a shot every few seconds.

“No killing!” he ordered as they ran.

“Are you out of your mind!?” Rinkah snapped. “This is a war! How are we supposed to fight without killing anyone!?”

“Just do the best you can,” Corrin urged her before turning to the Hoshidan soldiers. “Your job is to reinforce Prince Takumi’s position! Move back with his soldiers as we draw their attention, then we’ll leapfrog with you! Sakura, go with them!”

Giving a burst of speed Corrin pulled away from the Hoshidan soldiers, leaping through the air and into the Nohrian squad assaulting them. The Nohrians reeled from the sudden attack at their flank, and before they could rally Rinkah, Azura and Yuzu all followed Corrin, crashing into their formation as Kaze hung back. The ninja wasn’t idle, though, throwing daggers and other bladed weapons into the press of soldiers, distracting them for the other warriors as Sakura hovered at his shoulder. Corrin pressed further, his every movement felling more of his countrymen in a storm of blows from his fist and feet, occasionally parrying with the Yato blade or using it as a club. To their credit, the others were doing their best to follow his orders, too, the girls all striking non-lethally and Kaze using his considerable skill to incapacitate and annoy rather than kill. Rinkah seemed to be having the hardest time of it, forcibly reining in her bloodlust by snarling and cursing with every blow she landed. The Flame Tribe warrior’s countenance alone was a more effective distraction than any of Kaze’s knives.

In the thick of it Corrin didn’t even notice the familiar face until he saw it behind the blade he was parrying, his eyes widening with recognition at the same time as his attacker’s.

“Selena!?” he gasped.

The red-haired woman’s face paled as her jaw dropped. She stumbled back a step, lowering her sword but still keeping it at a wary ready stance at waist height. She looked, to Corrin, like she had barely been sleeping. Her skin was pale and drawn, and she had dark rings around her eyes she hadn’t even tried to mask with makeup. No doubt Camilla looked a hundred times worse, but Corrin but that thought aside with a grin. He’d finally made contact with someone from home.

“Lord… Corrin? Is that really you? What did they do to you?” she asked cautiously.

“Later! Call your men back before-” Corrin started.

“Forward! Forward now while they’re weakened!”

Corrin’s gaze snapped up as Takumi’s familiar voice boomed above the battle, the Hoshidans letting out a mighty roar before the combined squads charged back at the reeling Nohrians.

“Dammit, Takumi!” Corrin growled. “Selena, you need to stage a fighting retreat!”

“You have to come with me,” she urged him.

“I can stop this!” he said. “But it’ll be easier with you on my side to help me convince my sister-”

“Die, Hoshidan!”

Corrin glanced up, his eyes widening as a blade flashed down from his face. Clearly one of the Nohrian soldiers was under the assumption their commanding officer was in danger and was trying to do the right thing by protecting her, but…

“Dammit, you idiot! This is who we’ve come to save!” Selena snarled, catching his blade on her own and forcing it down.

Corrin turned at the sound of rushing soldiers, a scowl breaking out on his face as the Hoshidans crashed into the Nohrian formation. A few made it through, one angling for Selena while she was distracted with her own soldiers. Without even a second thought Corrin stepped before the man, ducking below his spear and smashing him across the face with Yato’s pommel. Both Selena and the Nohrian soldier she’d stopped looked up in disbelief as Corrin caught another Hoshidan blade on his own, the thin katana shattering against the Yato.

“Selena, fighting retreat! Now!” he shouted over his shoulder. “They won’t follow if you fall back! Signal Camilla and Beruka, have them withdraw, too!”

Selena nodded, dragging the stunned soldier back with her. “Prince Xander is in the north, near the river fork! Reports said the Hoshidan Commander was headed that way!”

“Meet me there!” Corrin said with a grin.

And then she was gone, his sister’s retainer swallowed up in the chaotic melee as the Hoshidans repelled the Nohrian flanking team. True to his prediction as soon as the Nohrians disengaged the Hoshidans reformed their ranks and let them go, the Sky Knights dropping down to safety as their two opponents followed the ground forces. Corrin watched all this with a renewed hope that he’d be able to stop this madness, and as the others joined him he gave a small grin.

“Good work, but we’re not done yet,” he said. “Any wounded?”

“Already taken care of,” Azura reported, favoring Sakura with a smile.

The Hoshidan princess blushed at the attention, but nodded resolutely.

“Then let’s go,” he said, turning back towards the north. “Our target is the spot where the river forks. Apparently Ryoma and Xander are fighting there.”

“And just what are you going to do when you get there?”

Corrin paused, glancing up at the acidic tone Takumi had addressed him with. The younger Hoshidan man glared at him from beside Hinoka’s pegasus, their sister sitting astride it with her naginata in hand.

“I’m going to stop this war before it gets any worse,” Corrin told them.

Takumi blinked in disbelief, but Hinoka gave a harsh laugh, grinning manically with the adrenaline of her airborne fight still coursing through her.

“Sounds fun! I’ll fly cover for you!” she offered.

Takumi’s head whipped around, his protests dying on his tongue as Hinoka clapped him on the shoulder.

“This section is secure now,” she reasoned, her grin only widening. “And Ryoma needs our help. You’re not going to let Corrin and Sakura take all the glory for themselves, right?”

Hesitating for only a moment, Takumi forced his face into a neutral expression before starting to jog in the direction of the fighting. “Let’s go, then.”

*

The northern part of Takumi’s section was actually one of the quieter areas of the line, but still they had to stop numerous times for Takumi to reorganize the frightened Hoshidan soldiers in black armor. Many were young, probably conscripted from his political allies’ territories, and few looked as if they had the mettle to be there at all. Corrin tried to look away from the knots of fighting, cursing himself as a hypocrite for not trying to stop every conflict. But he knew that the best way to stop the fighting permanently was to get the leaders to sit down and listen to what he had to say.

“Ryoma and Xander will listen to me, I know it…”

As they got closer to the fork in the river Corrin began to feel a curious prickling sensation along his exposed skin, as if a chill were running up his spine. One glance at Azura showed that she felt it too, and when their eyes locked they silently began to increase their pace. None of the others seemed to feel whatever was in the air, but as Corrin pushed through the Hoshidan soldiers to the bank of the shallow river the source of the discomfort revealed itself.

Xander and Ryoma were already locked in single combat.

The Nohrian Prince had dismounted, his charger waiting to one side patiently. Crowds of soldiers were pressing into a circle, watching patiently on both sides of the river. Corrin ignored them both, simply pushing through the Hoshidans and into the calf deep water, ignoring Azura’s cries that he stop.

“Xander! Ryoma! Stop this-”

“Darliiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!”

Corrin’s eyes widened as he noticed the shadow beneath him growing larger, a moment of recognition of his sister’s voice before she barreled into him from behind. Marzia, her wyvern mount, settled on the shore a short way away as Camilla forcibly turned Corrin to face her. Apparently she had leapt from her mount before it had even landed.

“Corrin, darling! What did… _what_ did those despicable Hoshidans do to you!?”

“Nothing, Camilla, nothing! Stop! You’re suffocating me!” Corrin cried from his sister’s breast, her arms around his chest like a vice.

From the shore Azura and the others had pushed through the press of soldiers now, too, Hinoka dismounting and taking a few furious steps into the icy river water.

“Take your filthy Nohrian hands off my brother!” she snarled, shaking her fist in agitation.

Camilla glanced at the Hoshidan princess over Corrin’s head, giving a soft chuckle. “Your brother? The only thing I see here is my beloved baby brother. And you can’t have him.”

“You… you… slut!” Hinoka shouted, indignant.

“Name-calling is so immature, Hoshidan,” Camilla laughed.

“Okay, enough!” Corrin shouted, finally managing to dislodge Camilla. “I have to stop Xander and Ryoma!”

“What? But why?” Camilla asked, seemingly genuinely confused. “We can just kill them all and go home, together, where you belong.”

“Later, Camilla! No one else is dying on my account today,” Corrin declared, already stomping towards his two older brothers.

Corrin ignored the various calls for him to stop or wait, totally focused on the duel before him. The two princes were both physically bigger than him, and both of their weapons had reach over his Yato. Xander had his shield still strapped to his arm, but Ryoma more than made up for the difference in speed. Blows rained faster than Corrin could see, chips of black steel and red lacquered armors flying away from the confrontation with almost every movement. Yet neither had managed to draw blood yet. Xander would strike high, from above, and Ryoma would dodge aside, using his momentum to spin Raijinto around in a scything arc, which the Nohrian would catch on his shield, stabbing with Siegfried around its edge, and the Hoshidan would dodge again, striking five times in quick succession, each blow accompanied by a crackle of electricity. For every near hit, another ten were blocked or dodged. For every chip or gouge in a piece of armor, a matching one on their opponent. The two princes were evenly matched, both pinnacles of their respective nation’s fighting styles and ideologies.

And Corrin was about to throw himself right into the middle of them.

Swallowing and taking a deep breath, Corrin darted in between his brothers. He caught Siegfried on Yato’s blade, resting it on his shoulder to lessen the impact, and reached up with his free hand, grasping Ryoma’s fists and halting Raijinto’s strike mid-blow. Both blows shook him, almost forcing him to the ground, but Corrin dug in his heels, lowered his head and pushed up on both of his brother’s weapons until they lifted them and stepped back.

“Corrin? What are you doing!?” Ryoma hissed.

“While it does me well to see you unharmed, I’m afraid I share my foe’s sentiments,” Xander ground out. “What are you doing, Little Prince?”

“Enough already!” Corrin shouted, making sure all assembled could hear him. “This pissing contest has gone on long enough! Can’t you all see that someone’s playing you against each other!?”

“Nohr are the aggressors here!” Ryoma thundered. “We marched to defend our homeland-”

“Defend!?” Xander roared in response. “You kidnapped my brother, a member of the Nohrian Royal Family! That we waited so long to rescue him at all is-”

“He is my brother, Nohrian scum, not yours!” Ryoma cut in.

“I raised the boy! I cared for him, when no others would! What is that if not family!?” Xander snarled.

“Enough!” Corrin repeated, shouting over them.

He looked around for support, finding none. On the Hoshidan side the other three members of the royal family had pushed forward now. Hinoka looked like she was about to charge in and fight the entire Nohrian army single-handed; Sakura looked like she was on the verge of tears, looking back and forth between her two older brothers with clear confusion on her pretty features; Takumi just watched silently, waiting to see if his accusation about Corrin would be proven true. On the Nohrian side Camilla held a hand to her heart, her eyes never leaving Corrin for a moment; Leo had appeared atop his own mount, and was alternating between casting his brother inscrutable glances and analyzing the Hoshidan lines; Elise looked torn between being overjoyed to see Corrin again and confused, perhaps even frightened, by his new appearance.

Azura appeared in the press of Hoshidan bodies, and their gazes met. A newfound feeling of calm strength surged through Corrin, the pendant he wore radiating with warmth, and he took another step forward, situating himself directly between Xander and Ryoma again.

“Enough,” he said. “Put down your weapons. All of you. This doesn’t need to end in bloodshed.”

“This will end when you are safely back home in Nohr, where you belong,” Xander said hotly.

“You would take him away from his family again!?” Ryoma seethed.

“I would return him to his family!” Xander retaliated. “Who are you, if not strangers to him!?”

“We are his family! His blood!” Ryoma insisted, holding out his hand to Corrin. “Corrin! Come home with us! Where you belong! Please!”

“No, Corrin, you know where your family truly is,” Xander said, holding out his own hand. “Come home with us, and together we can crush Hoshido-”

“I don’t want to crush anything!” Corrin snapped. “I’m trying to stop this war! I’m trying to stop the killing! Don’t the two of you see that!?”

“Don’t be so naive,” Xander said sadly. “This won’t end until one nation falls.”

“Corrin! Together we can drive Nohr from our lands!” Ryoma promised. “We can drive them back to the very pits of Windmire and rid the world of their stain once and for all!”

“No!” Corrin snarled, his fangs glinting in the dying afternoon sun. “No, I won’t let you use me as an excuse for war! Either of you!”

“It’s far too late for that, Little Prince,” Xander said sadly.

“Corrin! Choose now!” Ryoma demanded.

“Corrin!” Xander called to him.

His head snapped around, both families on both sides calling out to him. He took a shuddering step back, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he shook his head. He’d come this far, so close, to stopping the fighting. If only… there had to be something he could do! Something to stop the madness!

“Corrin!”

With a deep breath, Corrin composed himself, looking both of his brothers in the eye.

“Very well. If that’s how it is to be, then… then I choose…”


End file.
